


New Plaything

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And here they are, Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Child Torture, Demons really are jerks, Don't question it, GORE IN CHAPTER 13, Gen, Gore, I also guess, I swear the rest of these people will show up eventually, Kidnapping, Suicidal Thoughts, There aren't really ships, There's a lot of blood in this last chapter you guys, Torture, Well it's finally over, What is it with me and people named Dan, dan has an existential crisis, i guess, just see it however you want, no happy endings will ever find you, poor little guy, souls and crap that I made up on the spot, tons of death, torture via chemicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This man could be taking him anywhere.Anywhere, to do anything to him.Dan's seen the news. He knows what happens to people in these situations.He knows what happened to Chris isn't that far away from happening to him.I'm continuing this one! Tags will be updated if needed. Title by the absolutely fantastic BloodySky.





	1. Chapter 1

It's cold. He hates the cold.

A dull throbbing pounds in the back of his skull and he wants to just curl up and go back to sleep.

But a tiny voice in the back of his mind says that something is terribly, horribly, wrong.

Dan Howell sets about shaking the fog out out of his brain and slowly gains his senses back one by one.

He doesn't remember anything about where he is or how he had gotten there, which sucks.  
He can't see anything but the dark silhouettes of trees rushing by him.

Great - go ahead, life - throw that fear at him with the force of a thousand house plants.  
He hears the rustling of branches, soft footsteps hitting the dirt path, and someone breathing next to his ear.

That definitely doesn't freak him out. No, sir.

He smells typical forest smells, and tastes nothing but his own morning breath and something medicinal - maybe the drugs he'd been knocked out with.

He frowns. Why was that the first explanation to come to mind?

He soon realizes the answer to that question as feeling returns to his body.

His legs are bound tightly together, and his wrists taped uncomfortably, arms folded up against his chest. A cloth has been forced between his teeth and wrapped around his head several times, pulling painfully on strands of his hair with every jostle.

That's unsettling in its own right, but what really threatens to send Dan over the edge are the arms curled around his shoulders and thighs.

Someone is carrying him.

He's bound and gagged, being carried bridal-style by a stranger through a dark woods with the taste of drugs in his mouth.

This situation combines his greatest fears in the most horrific way imaginable, and Dan lets out an involuntary whimper.

The person holding him pauses their quick paced stride for about half a second, as if to say, 'Oh. You're awake,' before continuing on.

The cold, frosty air bites through Dan's black jumper and skinny jeans, and he wishes he had his jacket.

He wants to ask where they're going, but as soon as the thought enters his mind, he spirals down a path that there is no returning from.

Dan whines again, breath coming more rapidly through his gag, frosting in the air, as the horror of his situation begins to set in.

This man could be taking him anywhere.

Anywhere, to do anything to him.

Dan's seen the news. He knows what happens to people who end up in these situations. He knows what happened to Chris isn't that far away from happening to him.

The thought of his best friend slams into his chest like a bulldozer, shoveling away all thoughts of panic and replacing them with fond memories - playing video games in Chris's basement, watching Chris play with his new dog a couple Christmases ago, a smile almost splitting his face in half. Moving to Uni together, procrastinating together. Meeting PJ together.

Then the horrific memories start appearing - Chris going missing for two months, and then the police finally finding his bruised and battered body rotting in a ditch, and every tear-filled, dear-God-please-bring-him-back moment in between - and the next whimper that escapes Dan isn't panic-induced.

Soon, the trees start thinning, and Dan suddenly wants nothing more than to die right then and there and save him the pain and humiliation that is sure to come. The shape of a cabin looms in his peripheral vision and he shivers from the cold and the fear coursing through his body.

The door of the cabin swings open seemingly of its own accord, a beam of orange light cutting through the darkness, and a scream pierces the night.

Dan flinches, but his kidnapper's grip doesn't budge.

The scream cuts off suddenly, replaced by panicked shouting and the sound rips Dan's heart in two, then fills in the gap with a block of terror.

'That's going to be you,' the voice in the back of his mind says.

His stomach churns and he closes his eyes, only for his head to bang against something hard, causing him to wince. His kidnapper is standing in the doorway, holding Dan so that he has a perfect view of the scene unfolding on the wood floor of the cabin.

A man with green hair and a creepily large smile is laughing as he straddles a black-haired boy's stomach, pinning the struggling boy's wrists above his head with one hand. The other hand is holding a blood-encrusted knife.

The boy's bare feet are chained to the floor, and his jeans and T-shirt are stained with patches of blood, some old, some fresh. Cuts and bruises litter every inch of the boy's pale skin, and as Dan looks back at his face, the boy's eyes, bright blue and wide with terror, lock with his.

Dan feels a hand grabbing his hair, forcing him to look at the boy - he can't look away now.

Everything about the black-haired boy begs for Dan to help him, but there just isn't anything he can do.

The green haired man hasn't stopped laughing, and is holding his knife up to the light - a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling - and his eyes widen with maniacal glee.

Then he spots Dan.

"Oh, goody!" Green-Hair says, and his voice perfectly matches his appearance - shrill and erratic and grating, but with a slight hint of an accent. "You've brought me another plaything! How considerate~" His voice seems to overlap and fill with static near the end of his sentence, and Dan blinks hard a couple times, because he swears he saw the man glitch.

Green-Hair mockingly taps his chin thoughtfully with the tip of the knife, not seeming to care that he was cutting himself while doing so. "Take him down with the others," he says, somehow grinning even wider. "Make sure to introduce him!"

He laughs again and bends back over the boy, whose shouts and struggles resume.

His kidnapper leaves the room without a word, still carrying him bridal-style, kicking the door shut with a slam. The screams start not long after.

Dan winces at the thought of leaving the boy at Green-Hair's mercy, but he can't even move. 

He knows there was nothing he could've done, anyway.

The person carrying him was shorter than him by at least five inches, if not more, yet still could carry him through the woods for God knows how long without stopping and not even break a sweat.

Yeah, no way Dan was stronger than this person, even with his hands untied.

Plus, that knife looked sharp.

Dan tried not to think about the fact that the knife was the source of the horrific screams haunting his ears.

There's a dark oak door at the end of the hallway, and Dan almost faceplants into it as his kidnapper sets him down, not bothering to steady him on his feet before ripping off the bindings on his legs.

They then start looking for something in their pockets.

Dan takes this opportunity to examine the person's appearance.

His kidnapper is a man, indeed shorter than him, but definitely stronger. He has Asian features, and black hair that falls in his face, as if he's let his normal hair grow for too long and hasn't bothered cutting it.

Dark circles under his eyes give the dark irises an even more haunting look to them, like they'll suck you into a vortex of nothing and never let you out if you look at them for too long.

The most quirky thing about him, however, is that he was wearing a grey suit with a red tie, like he was on a date, or something.

It almost makes Dan want to laugh through his growing panic - until the man inserted a key in the lock on the door and he split - a red and blue mirror image outlining him, like a split filter effect.  
But then Dan blinked, and there was only one.

The man opened the door, shoving the key back into his suit pocket and straightening, turning to look Dan straight in the eyes.

/"Hello."/

It was the first time Dan had heard the man's voice and he immediately decided he could live without ever hearing it again.

The man's voice was deep and smooth, like honey, but there was a barely contained current of acid running through it.

The word he had spoken echoed and bounced off of itself, and a high-pitched ringing began to fill Dan's ears, making him wince.

/"I know that you're wondering why you're here."/

The figure before him seemed to grow in size, towering over him as the scenery faded to black.

Dan hunched his shoulders in order to be able to plug his ears with his tied hands, desperate to block out the ringing.

He didn't even notice the man gently guiding him into the doorway, eyes transfixed on the looming figure.

/"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you just yet. All will be revealed in good time."/

This sentence was even more discordant than the last, and the ringing increased, making Dan cry out in pain.

/"We're going to take good care of you, Daniel."/

One more step and he'd be falling the whole way down a flight of wooden stairs.

/"It's gong to be fine,"/ the man said, and he split again, red and blue outlining him and copying his every move. He smiled, putting a hand on Dan's shoulder. /"You can trust me."/

And then he gave Dan's shoulder a final light shove, and Dan fell backwards, the man's figure dissolving into red pixels as the world faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything hurt when he woke up.

His head throbbed and his ribs ached, and everything on him felt bruised.

The bindings he'd been tied with had been removed, and he slowly reached a hand up to rub his head. His hand found a strip of cloth wrapped around his head - someone had bandaged his wounds.

He was lying down on cold stone, and the only sources of light illuminating the room were moonlight from small windows around the top of the walls and three dim lightbulbs.

The room was rather large, with a set of stairs leading upward in the back corner.

Oh yeah. He'd fallen down those stairs.

Memories flooded back to him as he slowly pushed himself up, wincing as his body screamed in protest.

Then he realized that he was not alone.

There were many more people in the room than just him. Dan counted eight men and women scattered across the room, all of them various ages.

Their soft whispers carried to his ears, and he strained to make out what they were saying, panic rising as he tried to decipher whether they were friend or foe.

One of them, a man with scraggly blonde hair, was whispering harshly in another language to a girl who looked like she was trying to placate him. Dan watched their silent argument for a while, trying to figure out the language. He didn't think the girl could understand it either, due to the helpless expression on her face.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the figure get up and walk over to sit beside him until it was too late.

"Hey, you okay?"

Dan yelped, and would've scooted away had he not been trapped in the corner.

The man who'd kidnapped him and carried him through the woods stared back at him.

A bandage too dirty to be useful was sloppily wrapped around his forehead, and several small bruises littered his face, but otherwise he looked the same as he had during their last meeting.

The man stared at him with startled eyes, holding up both hands. "Woah, woah," he said, and Dan covered his ears, shying away. "Hey, calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

The man's voice was the same - deep and smooth with an American accent - but lacked the acidic undercurrent that Dan remembered it having. He waited for the ringing to fill his ears, but nothing happened.

The man reached out a hand to put it on Dan's shoulder, and Dan flinched away.

"Jävla skit, Mark, this is why we keep you in the back!" A new voice chimed in, and Dan jumped as the blonde man who'd been talking in another language sat down beside his kidnapper - Mark.

"You're scaring him! Back off!" The blonde slapped Mark's hand lightly.

"Sorry! I know - I just thought. . ." Mark's voice trailed off and he seemed to sag a little. "I just hoped. . ."

Dan stared in confusion. Mark was acting nothing like he had been yesterday. Had it even been yesterday? Or had it been longer? He was acting like a normal person, like nothing had ever happened between them.

The blonde smiled sadly, all signs of hostility suddenly gone. "I know. But it's not your fault, 'kay? Now go," the man said, lightly shoving Mark's shoulder. "Ethan and Tyler look bored. Go talk to them while I sort out the newbie."

Mark hesitated, then stood up slowly, as if he was trying not to scare Dan. Which was funny, considering he'd kidnapped him, shoved him down a flight of stairs and possibly broken his ribs and given him a concussion the last time they'd met. Dan didn't uncover his ears or look away until Mark was all the way across the room, sitting next to someone with blue hair.

Everyone's eyes were on Dan now. Everyone knew he was awake.

He saw faces full of fear, others full of pity, but all of them were full of pain and sadness.

"Hey," the blonde man said, scooting over to sit in front of Dan, blocking his view of the others. "My name is Felix."

Felix sported a rather spectacular black eye, and multiple minor cuts across his face.

"My name is Dan," he murmured, then froze as he noticed the ring of bruises around Felix's neck. Someone had tried to choke him - and recently.

"That's a cool name." Felix said, acting as if Dan hadn't been staring at his neck for more than was necessary.  
"Not really," Dan leaned his head back against the stone, finally tearing his eyes away.

"Bro," Felix sighed. "If I told you my full name you'd think I sneezed in Swedish. You get no complaining rights."

So that's what the language had been. Dan could pick out the accent now - the way Felix skipped over and blurred together certain sounds.

"You're Swedish?" Dan asked, picking at his fingernails.

"Yep," Felix said. "Born in an Ikea and everything."

Dan snorted, then winced as pain shot through his midsection.

"So, my job is to explain to you everything that goes on around here. Stop me if you have any questions. Capiche?" Felix raised his eyebrows.

"Capiche," Dan said, and waited.

"You're in the basement of a cabin in an isolated woods. There's no towns or cities or roads around here. No one to hear you scream."

Dan fought off a shudder.

"The two men who kidnapped us mostly stay upstairs - well, more on that later. The green-haired one is named Anti. The other one is named Dark."

"Wait -" Dan blurted, confused. "You called him Mark. And what kind of names are Anti and Dark?"

Felix smiled and ducked his head a little.

"Anti named himself. Don't ask me where he got it, he's pretty jacked in the head." Felix laughed after he said this, like he'd made the funniest joke in history. "As for Dark, well. . . We don't know. Not even Mark knows. We just think of him as Mark's doppelgänger - his evil twin brother. Mark had no idea he existed until he woke up to Dark's smiling face leering over him in this very basement. And that was two years ago."

Dan squinted, trying to sort all this out. "So - Mark and Dark are two different people? That just happen to look like each other?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"But -" Dan paused. "Please don't think I'm crazy, but I swear I saw - Anti? - glitch the first time I saw him. And Dark - there was this weird split filter effect, and his voice, and -"

"Woah, hey," Felix said, interrupting Dan before he could work himself up into a panic. "No, you're not crazy. Yes, Anti does glitch. Yes, Dark acts like a demon and distorts your vision and crap like that. We don't know why, or how, for that matter." Felix sighed, running a hand through his matted hair.

"Who's we?" Dan asked. "You keep saying we."

"Everyone down here," Felix said. "I'll introduce you once you can walk again. Or sooner, if they feel like introducing themselves."

"Who all is here?" Dan asked. "A list of names would be nice."

"Okay, here goes," Felix said, taking a deep breath. "There's me, you, Mark, Marzia, Jack, Ethan, Tyler, Phil, Zoe, Joe, and. . . Connor."

Dan just stared.

"Yeah, it's a lot."

"How'd they get everyone here? I mean, that's. . ." Dan did a quick head count. "Nine people they had to get here! And you're from Sweden and Mark's from America and I'm from England - where are we, anyway?"

"Well, Mark and Jack were the first ones here. Then they brought in Ethan, Tyler, and Connor, who were all from L.A., and then me and Marzia from Sweden, and then the rest are all from Britain. So they went by country, I guess. I don't know where we are - no one here does."

Dan processed this information, then counted heads again. "You said that there were eleven people in this room, but I only see nine."

"Well, Phil's still upstairs," Felix said, and his voice immediately got quieter.

Dan's mind flashed back to the black haired boy writhing underneath Anti's iron grip, his blue eyes staring up at him, begging him to help.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered, "That only makes ten."

Felix turned around, mouthing names and counting on his fingers. "Oh. Jack's upstairs, too."

Dan frowned. "I only saw one person up there."

Felix laughed softly. "Here's a hint - Jack has green hair."

Dan froze, Anti's maniacal laugh playing in his head on repeat. "How - what - "

"Anti might really be a demon, for all we know," Felix sighed. "Anti possesses Jack whenever he feels like 'playing'." Air quotes were made around the last word. "He takes over Jack and tortures us. It hurts Jack every time his enters or leaves, but there's not really anything we can do about that, is there?"

Dan felt responsible for the miserable look on Felix's face, but didn't know what else to say.

All this just seemed too supernatural and crazy.

"I'm dreaming," Dan muttered, pinching the back of his hand. "I'll wake up and Chris will be there telling me I cried like a baby -"

"Chris?" Felix asked, sitting up straight.

"My best friend," Dan said, glumly. "He went missing two months ago and the police found his body in a ditch near my University."

"Chris . . . Kendall?"

Dan looked up sharply. "How do you know that name?"

Felix put his head in his hands. "He showed up around October. A couple weeks ago, Dark dragged him upstairs and he never came back. We never found out what happened -" A noise akin to a sob wrestled its way out of Felix.

"Oh." Dan felt sick. Chris's fate was now even closer than ever and the thought of his best friend screaming like the black haired boy - Phil - makes him want to retch.

But he doesn't.

Because this is his life now - blood and torture and death.

He looked up at Felix again, and opened his mouth to say something, when the door at the top of the stairs slammed against the wall.

Everyone stopped talking instantly.

The fear in Dan's chest built with every footstep he heard. Soon, the black haired boy could be seen stumbling unevenly down the stairs, Anti right behind him.

Phil was shoved forward off of the last stair, and one of the girls rushed forward, catching him before he hit the ground. She dragged him carefully off to the side, and a group of three people formed a sort of human shield around the semi-conscious boy.

Anti practically skipped down the last few stairs, giggling.

"Ok, Darky," he called shrilly up the stairs. "You can lock the door."

There was no answer but the slam of wood on wood and the click of a lock.

Anti giggled again, his eyes coming to rest on Dan. The way they lit up sent shivers down Dan's spine.

Anti walked over, hands clasped behind his back.

"How's it going, Danny Boy?" He sneered, and Dan didn't answer, trying to hide his growing panic.

Anti turned his head to look at Felix, then sat down heavily next to him. "How's your neck, Fe?" He simpered, then shot his arm out towards Felix so fast it blurred.

Felix yelped and jumped backwards, eyes shut and breathing hard, one hand wrapped protectively around his neck.  
Anti laughed, and the noise dissolved into static.

"Well, I'm tired," the demon said, stretching his arms out. "Besides, Jack might not be able to take much more~"

At the mention of Jack's name, the words overlapped and stuttered, and Anti glitched. "And as for you, Dan, don't worry," he giggled, coming back into focus. "We'll have a lot more chances to get to know each other~"

Dan watched in sick fascination as Anti glitched again, then laughed, high and shrilly, drawing a finger across his neck and leaving a trail of blood.

Then his green eyes rolled up into his head and he fell face-forward into Dan's lap, unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Just a small filler chapter for y'all.  
> Also - tiny contest for anyone out there - I need a better title. Come up with one I like, and I'll give you virtual cookies, a hug from my muse, and credit in the summary. Thanks!

Dan screamed.

Pardon him, but a serial kidnapper, hands covered in another person's blood, had just fallen face first into his lap.

He hoped the others could forgive him for being a tad bit freaked out.

Felix lunged forward, grabbing Anti's shoulders and pulling him off of Dan's legs. Something wet soaked the knees of his jeans, and Dan realized that it was blood from Anti's hands.

He did not want to know who it had come from.

The black-haired boy had been propped up against the wall. Mark and the girl who had been talking to Felix tended to his wounds, ripping up a jacket to use as bandages.

Dan took in a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to sort things out in his head. So far, it wasn't working.

Felix was bent over Anti, who looked a lot less threatening with his eyes closed and his mouth shut. 

"Come on," Felix murmured, pressing two fingers to Anti's neck, feeling for a pulse.

Dan was majorly confused, wondering why the Swede would want his kidnapper and torturer to be alive, until he remembered what Felix had said not even five minutes earlier. 

'He takes over Jack and tortures us. It hurts Jack every time he enters or leaves, but there's not really anything we can do about that, is there?'

Anti had left, he realized. This was Jack - for now. But where was Anti, then?

Dan slowly peeled away from the wall for the first time, wincing as his side screamed in protest. He grit his teeth, however, and pulled his legs underneath him to kneel on the other side of Jack, brushing the man's wavy green fringe out of his face so Felix could wipe away some blood on his forehead.

The green looked more vibrant and bright now than it had when Anti had been in control.

It felt weird, talking about the same body but two different people, and Dan still couldn't quite bring himself to believe that this was real.

"Why did he choose Jack?" Dan asked, and Felix looked over.

"I don't know. What I told you was the extent of my knowledge. Our knowledge," he added, gesturing around the room. He returned his attention to the man on the floor, patting his cheeks and continuing to wipe away blood with his jacket sleeve. "Jack, bro, come on, wake up," Felix muttered, just a hint of panic leaking through his words.

Dan stayed quiet after that, watching Felix care for Jack and Mark care for Phil. After a couple minutes, everyone seemed to decide it was time to turn in for the night, and started lying down in various spots of the room.

Mark and the girl finished bandaging Phil, only a small strip of the jacket left. Mark lay down to sleep right then and there, but the girl wandered over to Felix, Dan, and the unconscious Jack.

"He hasn't woken up yet?" She asked, and her accent caught him off guard. 

"No, Zia," Felix said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "He's alive - so far - but he's just not waking up. Anti really did a number on him."

The girl sat down next to Dan, and turned to greet him. 

"Hi, I'm Marzia Bisognin," she said, her voice amicable. "I'm Felix's girlfriend."

"Hey. My name is Dan," he said, and smiled shyly at her. "Sorry, but - where are you from? Felix said you were both taken in Sweden, but your accent sounds different from his."

"I'm Italian," she said. "We were visiting his family."

"And if I hadn't convinced you to come along," Felix mumbled, "You'd still be okay and not kidnapped."

"Stop this, amore," Marzia said, sounding as if they'd had this conversation many times before. "It's not your fault and I wanted to come. There was no way you could have known what was going to happen."

Felix looked like he had more to say, but was interrupted by Jack's deep and sudden inhale of breath.

Dan watched, startled, as his eyes flew open - and they were a beautiful blue, not burning acidic green - and he gasped again, wincing and pressing a hand to his head as he sat up.

Thank God Felix had wiped the blood off of his hands and face earlier, or he would have had new red streaks in his hair.

"Ow, frickin' hell," Jack moaned softly, taking note of the sleeping figures scattered throughout the room. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah," Felix said. "Phil's all fixed up and sleeping."

Jack's eyes (blue, they were blue, this was not Anti, they were blue) fixed on Dan. "And you?" He asked, his words thick with an Irish accent. "Sorry if he scared you," he added, sounding a little sheepish.

Dan didn't need to ask who 'he' was.  
The questions Dan had to ask piled up with every second that passed until he just couldn't not ask them anymore.

"Can you see?" Dan blurted. "Can you see what he's making your body do? What happens to you when you're not in control anymore? How does he take over? And are you okay? Felix said it hurt when he came or left. . ." He trailed off in an embarrassed fashion, realizing that maybe Jack might not want to talk about it.

Jack smiled softly. "I'm okay. It's been worse before."

Dan tried to picture worse and found he didn't want to.

"As for your other questions. . ." Jack paused. "Yes," he said, voice oddly subdued. "Every single thing. Every scream, I hear. I feel their skin tear and their bones break under my hands. But I can't do anything - it's like I'm watching a movie. I'm trapped inside my own head. He just. . . forces his way in. . ."

Dan regretted his outburst now, and opened his mouth to apologize.

"I just have to tell myself that this is not me," Jack whispered, cutting Dan off. "I'm as helpless as Anti's victim and that it's not me doing that to them. . ."

Marzia reached over and squeezed his arm lightly. Jack looked up from staring at the floor to smile at her, then looked over to where Mark lay on the other side of the room. "I'm gonna turn in," he said suddenly, giving Felix a hug and awkwardly shaking Dan's hand. "See you in the morning," he sighed, then shakily got up and stumbled over to lie down next to Mark.

"I'm sorry," Dan mumbled, wishing he could hide forever. "I didn't think. . ."

"No, you're fine," Felix said, playfully shoving his arm. "I asked way more questions than that."

"Well," Marzia sighed. "I hate to break up the bro party, but you should probably try to sleep, Dan."

Dan hesitated, then nodded, wondering how on earth he was going to sleep on the literally rock-hard floor.

"We'll be right next to you if you need anything," Felix said.  
He was holding Marzia's hand, and Dan smiled. "Thanks. For everything."

The couple smiled back at him in reply, then moved over a few feet.

Marzia threw him a small, thin blanket, and he thanked her quietly.

He sat there and watched them as they settled down, noting the endearing terms they used for each other in their native languages, and they way they looked at each other. 

He could tell they truly loved each other.

He turned away as they shared a short kiss, smiling to himself.

He lay down in his corner, using the blanket as a pillow, and closed his eyes.

Then everything hed been avoiding thinking about crashed into him at once.  
Had PJ called the police when he hadn't come home? His classes ended at seven, and he definitely had been late for curfew.  
Were they looking for him?  
Would they find him, just like Chris? Would PJ have to go through life without yet another friend?

And so Dan fell asleep, spiraling deeper and deeper into his thoughts.

 

It seemed like he only slept a few seconds, but when he awoke, sunlight was filtering through the small windows.  
Then he registered what had woken him.  
Felix was screaming loud enough to wake the dead, and Anti's static laugh overlapping in a never ending loop burrowed into his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason one of the tags is 'Major Character Death'.

Everyone was awake now.

Dan shot up to a standing position, ignoring the pain that emanated from his ribs, just in time to see Anti - no, Jack - stumble backwards, clutching his head.

Felix was kneeling on the ground, shouting incoherently in Swedish, desperate sobs shaking his whole frame. Marzia lay unmoving in his arms, her eyes open wide and unseeing, blood coating her face and soaking her clothes. Wide gashes, like animal claw marks, marred her neck. They still were leaking small streams of blood, and Dan could see bone, telling him all he needed to know.  
Anti had killed Marzia, leaving Jack to deal with the consequences.

Horror boiled up in Dan's chest and he took a step backwards, covering his mouth.

Felix had switched to English again, and Dan could hear him sobbing, "Wake up, wake up," over and over without pause.

Dan felt tears well up in his eyes at the scene, and stared back at Jack.

The Irishman's blue eyes were wide with horror, and his blood-soaked hands trembled at his sides. 

Felix hadn't let go of Marzia, but he looked up sharply, tears running down his face and washing away the blood on Marzia's face.

"Jack," he croaked, and suddenly his face was contorted in anger. "Let him in. I want to hurt him."

Jack didn't answer - didn't even show that he'd heard the blonde.

"Jack!" Felix roared, making Dan and practically everyone else flinch.

Jack snapped his head up, looking at Felix with teary eyes. "I'm so sorry," he choked out, clenching his fists, then noticing the blood. "Oh, God -"

"Let him in," Felix growled, letting go of Marzia and standing up.

Jack kept looking at him, the tears falling down now. "I - I can't -"

"Then I'll settle for you," Felix said, his voice constricted. 

Dan didn't have time to register the words he'd said before Felix slammed his fist into Jack's stomach.

The green-haired man doubled over, hands smearing blood on his T-shirt as he clutched his middle, groaning.

But he didn't punch back.

Mark and a tall, muscular guy lunged forward out of nowhere as Felix swung back to punch Jack again, and caught his arms, pinning them to his sides.

"Let me go," Felix howled, struggling. "He killed her! I don't care who's in control, he killed her! And now she's - dead -"  
All the fight went out of him at the last and he sagged in the two men's grasp. "I want her back. I want Marzia back."

His voice broke on his girlfriend's name, and Dan's heart ached.

Jack had retreated to the corner by the stairwell, curling in on himself and refusing to look anywhere near Marzia's body.

Mark and the tall man hesitantly let go of Felix, and he knelt by Marzia's side, lovingly closing her eyes and brushing her blood-matted hair out of her face.

"How did we not wake up?" The tall man asked.

Felix shook his head. "He covered her mouth and choked her. She barely made a sound. I only woke up when he started laughing . . ." He closed his eyes, grabbing Marzia's hand.  
"'Till death do us part," he whispered sadly, bringing her hand to his mouth and lightly kissing it.

Mark pursed his lips, blinking hard, then walked over to where Jack was sitting, putting a consoling hand on his back.

"Hi."

It took Dan a while to realize that the tall man was talking to him.

"Who - oh. Hi."

"I'm Tyler Scheid," he said, holding out his hand for Dan to shake. He did, and told Tyler his name.

"Nice to meet you. That's Ethan, by the way," Tyler added, pointing at the blue-haired boy who was waving at them from across the room. "My roommate."

"Oh." Ethan looked young. Younger than most of them there. Maybe twenty?

Tyler sighed, then looked over at Felix and Marzia. "That's a nasty way to die."

Dan winced. "How did he do that without a knife?"

"His fingernails."

Dan spluttered, looking at Tyler incredulously. "What?"

Tyler looked back with a serious expression on his face. "He ripped her neck open with his fingernails. They grow incredibly sharp whenever Anti's in control."

Dan stared at Jack, trying to picture his hand at Marzia's neck, tearing her skin open with his bare hands.

Unfortunately, he succeeded.

Shuddering, he asked, "How do you know? Were you awake?"

"No," Tyler snorted. "I sleep like the dead. I've been on the receiving end of his nails more than once. I know what kind of marks they leave."

Tyler's facial expressions hadn't changed the whole time he'd been speaking, but slight fluctuations in his voice gave away what he was feeling.

"Oh," Dan muttered, trying to mask his rising horror.

It didn't work, because Tyler looked at him sympathetically. 

"You'll get used to it," the American said, pushing off of the wall. 

That closing statement didn't leave Dan feeling so well.

Then he heard the noises.

Footsteps, and the scrape of metal on metal.

The distinct sound of a lock clicking shoved him into a panic, because there was only one person that could be at the door.

Sure enough, Dark's polished shoes appears on the stairs, and Dan cowered, sinking down to the ground again.

Dark said nothing as he passed Mark, who was clutching his head as if in pain. He headed straight for Marzia's body.

Felix looked at him fearfully, face tear stained and eyes red from crying.

/"Hello, Felix,"/ Dark said, and there was the acidic undertone and the ringing was back, but not as loud as it had been.

Felix winced and covered his ears, and Dan copied him.

/"I'm so terribly sorry to hear of your loss."/

He sounded genuine, but Dan knew better.

Felix said nothing, just curled into a ball, breathing heavily.

/"I'm going to take her off your hands now. You won't have to look at her anymore."/

The ringing wasn't intensifying, and the world wasn't turning to black, but Felix shook his head, face contorted with pain. "Please," he whimpered, and Dan's heart ached again.

/"You've been so good, Felix,"/ Dark said, sounding as if he was trying to console a four year old. /"You've been so strong. I'm sure Ms. Bisognin is proud of you."/

Felix's eyes rolled up in his head at the last word, and he collapsed, unconscious.

Dark simply smiled, and the ringing disappeared.

The suit-clad man knelt down, picked up Marzia, and walked towards the stairs, disappearing through the doorway at the top.  
The door slammed shut with a snap, and Mark let out a huge breath.

"You okay?" Jack asked quietly. 

Mark nodded. "Fine. Just - it hurts when he does that."

Dan silently added that to his list of information on these seemingly supernatural beings.

Tyler checked Felix's pulse. "He'll be fine," he sighed, picking up the blonde's body an moving him to Dan's corner. "Just - give him time. You know how these things work."

"He can knock you out?" Dan asked shakily. 

"Yeah," Tyler said, brushing Felix's hair out of his face. "You should know."

Dan stared at the tear stains down Felix's cheeks, remembering his own experience worth Dark, and decided he needed a distraction.

"I'll be back," he mumbled, and shakily stood up.

Why he said that, he didn't know - there was nowhere else to come back from. But Tyler nodded in understanding, and turned to beckon Ethan over.

Dan fumbled his way over to the other side of the room, and sat down next to the girl who'd helped bandage Phil's wounds

She had tangled brown hair, and so did the man sitting next to her. 

They looked very similar.

She turned to look at him and smiled, although there were tear stains on her cheeks too.

"Hi," she said in a soft British accent.

"Hi. I'm Dan," he said.

"I'm Zoe," she said, sniffling. "And this is my brother, Joe." She pointed to the man next to her.

Joe raised his hand, flashing him a brief smile.

"And this is Connor," she said, pointing to the one person Dan hadn't seen when he sat down.

The man looked to be in his early twenties, with unruly brown hair and blue-green eyes. He smiled at Dan too.

"Where are you from?" Dan asked, due to lack of conversation topics. He didn't even know why he'd come over.

"Brighton," Joe said, motioning to himself and Zoe.

"Los Angeles, California," Connor said.

"Nice. I'm a Londoner," Dan said.

They made small talk for a while, when all of a sudden -

"Okay, I think I've got it," Joe said suddenly.

"What?" Dan stared at him, confused.

Zoe let out a small laugh, slapping her brother's knee. "Stop it! Stop showing off!"

Joe smirked. "Sorry, I just can't help it," he said, but the voice wasn't his.

It was Dan's.

Joe had perfectly imitated his voice, from the pitch to the slight fluctuations that made it his own.

"Woah," Dan said, feeling a smile break out on his face for the first time in a while. "How did you do that?"

"Practice," Joe shrugged, this time copying Connor's American accent. "Everything takes practice."

Dan full on grinned. "Can you copy everyone here?"

"Everyone except for Mark. His voice is too low." Joe scrunched up his face, looking around. "Ah! Here we go."

He cleared his throat. "Top 'ah the mornin' to ya', laddies!" He screeched in a perfect Irish accent, and Dan laughed. He hadn't done that in a long time.

"Shut up, you showoff!" Came the indignant response from Jack, but Joe just laughed.

Joe processed to do imitations of everyone in the room, even managing to make Felix smile when he woke up.

After the excitement of Joe's talent wore off, Dan looked over to the northeast corner of the room, only to see the black haired boy sitting up and staring at him with those blue eyes. 

Dan suddenly flashed back to the first night he had, and of Phil writhing in Anti's grip, and swallowed down his humor.

"I'm going to go talk to Phil," he told Zoe, and stood up, not waiting for her reaction.

His ribs ached and his head throbbed, but he made it over to sit in front of the black haired boy.

"Hi," he said. "My name is Dan." He made a bracket motion with his hands, then inwardly rolled his eyes at his stupidity.

But Phil smiled, reaching up to brush his fringe out of his eyes.  
"Hey," he said back. "I'm Phil."


	5. Phil

"You're Northern," Dan blurted, then sighed, putting his head in his hands. It seemed as if he would never run out of stupid things to say when meeting someone new.

The prospect of new friends always made him nervous.

Phil laughed softly, and the tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he smiled. "Yeah. Ace, mate," he joked, exaggerating his accent.

Dan smirked. 

"I'm glad we're getting to introduce ourselves properly," Phil said, reaching up to adjust the bloody jacket strip tied over his left arm. "Our first meeting was. . . unpleasant."

Dan frowned. "How are you, by the way? I've been holed up in my corner, so. . ."

"I'm okay. Been worse." Phil's smile seemed a little too forced when Dan looked closely enough.

"Everyone keeps saying they've been worse. How bad does it get here?" Dan asked.

"Pretty bad. I mean - " Phil hesitated. "Once, Connor got hurt really bad. We thought he was going to die from blood loss, and he almost did. Dark came down and healed him, though - said something about it not being time to die yet. I don't know."

"Wait, these demons can heal people?" Dan asked incredulously.

Phil nodded. "It brings back the original pain of the wounds, though. And it always leaves a scar." Phil's smile dropped.

Dan didn't know what to say.

Silence reigned until he had to say something, or he'd die from the quiet. 

"I like your shirt."

Phil jumped a little, startled out of his thoughts. "What? Oh." He looked down at his tattered and bloodstained shirt, which showed a cat with laser eyes surfing. 

"Thanks! It's one of my favorites."

Dan smiled. "It suits you."

"Really? You think so?"

Dan shrugged. "Sure. You seem like a laser-eye-surfboarding-cat kinda guy."

Phil chuckled. "I think you'd look good in purple."

"That is the most random color -" Dan started, surprised.

"Not really," Phil interjected. "Purple means royalty, right? You have that look, like you're meant to rule the world, but are too scared about what people will think of you."

Dan really didn't know what to say to that, so he just settled for nodding.

"Sorry. That metaphor got away from me." Phil looked sheepish. "Honestly, you've stayed in a conversation with me longer than any of the rest would. I mean, they're nice people, don't get me wrong, it's just - " Phil paused. "They've all got each other. I was the newbie before Chris, and we got along great, but. . ."

Dan felt a pang of sadness at the mention of Chris's name, and sympathy for the black haired boy (he wasn't really a boy, Dan realized - he looked older than everyone here) washed over him.

"Well, we'll make our own group. We can call ourselves . . ." Dan paused, trying to think of something funny. "Two British Idiots."

Phil snickered, smiling a genuine smile this time. "No. Try again."

"Umm, Phan."

"No!"

"Why not? It's a great name!"

Phil laughed. "You literally just combined our names together."

Dan smiled sheepishly. "Okay, we need something better than Phan."

"How about. . . Dan and Phil?"

"Good. I like it. Original and tells everyone all they need to know about us. Definitely better than Phan." 

"Don't get sarcastic with me, young man. It's a great idea!"

"Young man? How old are you?"

"I'll be thirty in January."

"It's March."

"I'm thirty, then."

"Seriously?"

"Don't age-shame me!"

Dan laughed, burying his head in his hands. "We're going to get along great."

Hours of conversation passed between the two.

Dan learned that Phil had an older brother, an unhealthy obsession with house plants, and that he was the literal physical embodiment of a cinnamon roll personality.

They were polar opposites.

He mentioned this to Phil, who shrugged. "Opposites attract, I suppose."

Before Dan knew it, the light from the windows had disappeared, leaving only the orange glow of the lightbulbs ahead.

Dan wanted to curl up right where he was, but Phil had explained the unspoken rule.

Much like a school cafeteria, where you first sleep is where you always sleep, and everyone had their own spots.

For example - going counter clockwise from the stairs - the order was as follows:

Zoe, who slept pressed up against the stairs' foundation, Joe, Tyler, Ethan, Connor, Phil, who slept in the northeast corner, Mark, Jack, Felix, and then finally, Dan, who had claimed his spot in the corner diagonally across from the stairs.

Dan vaguely noticed no one slept in the direct line of fire of the stairs.

It was like they were scared something would come down and kill them in their sleep.

Too soon? Too soon.

Dan, groaning and complaining the whole time, hobbled back over to his corner.

There was a wide, gaping hole in-between Felix and Dan. Marzia used to be there, but wasn't anymore. 

The lack of people around him and the ominous cursed stairs made him panic a bit, and he wished Felix would move over just a little bit.

He contemplated what to do for a few seconds before reaching out, leaning forward, and snagging Felix's sleeve with his fingertips.

The Swede turned his head to look at him. "Vad vill du - ugh, sorry. Lets try this in English. What's up?"

His voice was raspy from all the crying and shouting he'd done, and his eyes were bloodshot. Pity swelled in Dan's chest. 

"Do you wanna move over?" Dan asked quietly. "Jack looks a little cramped."

That couldn't have been further from the truth. The Irishman was practically spread-eagled on the floor, but thankfully Felix caught the hidden message.

"Sure," he said lightly, scooting over. "Jack-a-boy. Hey."

Jack looked over from his conversation with Mark. "What?"

"Scoot over, you potato. I'm cold."  
Jack smiled and complied, badgering Mark to do the same.

"Now Phil can stretch his legs out without hitting me in the head," Mark said, loud enough for Phil to hear. Phil kicked out and managed to hit Mark's arm, and the American howled in mock agony that soon dissolved into laughter.

Phil was laughing too, and Dan smiled.

A couple minutes and a lot of blankets being distributed later, Dan found himself wrapped in a dirty but remarkably warm blanket, facing Felix, who looked half asleep already.

"Looks like you're my talking buddy," Felix said around his yawn.

"Sorry?" Dan asked.

"Everyone's got their talking buddy at night. Just like a sleepover."

Dan looked around and realized Felix was right.

Zoe and Joe, Tyler and Ethan, Connor and Phil, Jack and Mark.  
Felix used to have Marzia. Dan was just a reminder that she wasn't there anymore.

"If you're wondering," Felix mumbled sleepily, "I apologized to Jack."

Dan was about to ask why, then remembered the small fit of anger that had overcome the blonde. 

"Oh. Good."

"Yeah. I wasn't feeling quite like myself then. Understandably."

Dan nodded, not really knowing what to say.

Felix peeked out at him from under his blanket and Dan felt as if he was suddenly talking to a small child, not a twenty-something man. 

"Do you think we'll ever get out of here?" Felix asked, sounding not at all hopeful.

"I don't know." There really wasn't anything else to say. Dan wasn't going to spew optimism, but didn't want to be a pessimist.

"She thought we would. Told me every day - 'Today, Fe - this is the day.'"

The heartbreak in the man's voice almost made Dan want to cry.

"It's funny," Felix chuckled softly. "The day she left, she didn't get a chance to say it. And she left without me."

Dan reached out awkwardly to rub Felix's arm.

"She left without me, goddammit," Felix sniffed. "And I want her back."

Dan didn't - couldn't - say anything else and continued rubbing Felix's arm until the blonde's breathing evened out and he fell asleep.

Dan sighed, burrowing into his blanket burrito, and prayed that when he woke up this would all be over.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiny gore moment, I think. I'm sorry if I inadequately tag things - I give you rights to sue.

A few days passed without incident, and Dan settled into a routine.

Food was left at the bottom of the stairs each morning, and was rationed out to everyone. There turned out to actually be a bathroom - unlike the movies, where the victims just magically don't have to pee. The bathroom door was to the right of the locked one, therefore hidden by the wall from Dan's sight until Connor told him about it.

He was very grateful for that bathroom.

He talked to Phil every morning, and Felix every night, and everyone else during the day.

He began to feel differently about his predicament the more he talked to the other people.

The danger and horror was still there, but the basement was starting to feel. . . friendly, almost. Maybe it was because of all the friends he was making. He could hate his predicament, but still be content, right?

Not that he didn't want to go home - he did. God, he wanted to go home and see PJ and his parents and get out of there.

But if he had to be kidnapped, he wanted some familiarity and comfort, and he found it in his friends.

The days continued on without any major mishaps.

Dan discovered that Ethan still had a working watch, and everyone in the basement guarded it with a ferocity. It was set to PST, which wasn't everyone's time zone, but it measured the hours, days and months well enough.

He also discovered that Tyler had assumed the responsibility of being everyone's bodyguard, Felix was in charge, for reasons unknown to man, Joe and Connor were the ones everyone went to when they wanted to laugh, and Zoe was the comforter, along with Phil. Mark and Jack were the "healers". They were extremely good at bandaging and caring for wounds after doing it for two years.

Everyone had a place and a value in the little basement hierarchy.  
Dan hadn't found his yet.  
What if he didn't ever find one?

Dan laughed to himself and shook his head.

His fear of not finding a place was stupid, and the least of his problems - considering a man who could be possessed by a serial killer slept ten feet away from him.

His thoughts strayed too far down that road and he flashed back to Felix's emotional moment the night after Marzia's death.

The Swede seemed okay for now.  
He was trying to ruffle Connor's hair, but the American kept dodging him, both of them laughing.

Dan scooted over to Phil, needing someone to talk to.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the wall.

"What's up?" Phil asked, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"Nothing."

"Hm."

"Don't you ever get bored?" Dan asked after a short pause.

"Oh, yeah," Phil said. "All the time."

"What do you do?"

"I just think about things. My home, my family." Phil paused. "I don't want to forget anything. Or anyone."

Dan tried to recall Chris's face and was terrified to find that he couldn't.

It had been almost a week since he'd been kidnapped.

A week since he'd seen a picture of his friends and family, and he was already forgetting their faces.  
He frantically tried to freeze their images in his mind, so he'd never lose them.

"You okay, Bear?" Phil asked.

Dan nodded, then laughed.

"Bear?"

"You said you liked Winnie the Pooh. So, Bear."

"My childhood favorites are relevant to my nickname?"

"Yes."

"Alright, you spoon."

"Okay, now see, that's a stretch -"  
Phil paused as he was cut off by a shout from the other side of the room.

Dan jerked his head around to see who had caused it.

It was Jack.

It looked like he'd just violently shoved Ethan away from him, and everyone else around him was staring at him warily.

"Away, away," he was groaning, hand clenching the faded green of his hair. "Go away!"

The last part was shouted, and then he opened his eyes wide and screamed.

Dan watched, petrified, as the green of his hair darkened several shades as if by magic, and his blue eyes turned acid green.  
The scream glitched and overlapped with high-pitched laughter, until it disappeared in a burst of static.

Dan didn't know what to do. He'd never witnessed the transformation before, and it terrified him.

Anti stood up straight, laughter coming to a giggling halt.

"Can't go away if I never left~" he said mockingly, and Dan subconsciously noticed Phil trying to become one with the corner behind him.

Tyler had gathered everyone in a group behind him, and stood glaring defiantly at the demon - a 'you'll have to get through me first' look on his face.

Dan appreciated it, but knew that Anti could very easily get through him first, then get to the rest of them.

"Look at you all, hiding like little scared bunnies," Anti crooned. "Aww, you're all so adorable - I just wanna eat you up~"

He took a step towards the group, hissing and baring his teeth. They were considerably sharper than Jack's.

Anti laughed his static laugh that burned Dan's ears as they all flinched collectively.

"Out of the way, Tyler dear," Anti said. "I'm here for the comedian."

Connor and Joe stared at each other.

"The British one," Anti elaborated, tapping a lengthened and sharpened fingernail against his chin. "He always makes me laugh."

Zoe whimpered and clutched her brother's arm as tightly as she could.

Anti had slowly been advancing towards Tyler while speaking, and now stood almost nose to nose with the American.

Mark put a hand on Tyler's shoulder and tried to pull him back, but he didn't budge.

"Not gonna move? You do this every time, dearie~" Anti's words blended into his giggle as he reached a hand up and traced a finger along Tyler's jaw. "We both know how it's gonna end."

Tyler looked as if he was trying his hardest not to cringe away.

"I'm giving you a chance, Tyler Scheid. This isn't going to do anything, you know that. Take it? Or leave it?"

Tyler straightened his back and lifted his chin in defiance.

Anti grinned, showing his pointed teeth, then without warning, sunk his nails into Tyler's bared neck.

The American let out a loud and strangled cry, scrabbling at Anti's hand, blood leaking from his wounds and soaking his shirt collar.

A sickening snap echoed throughout the room as Anti clenched his fist, snapping Tyler's windpipe.

Blood coated Anti's hand and clothes, and Dan looked away, burying his head in his knees.

The smell of blood and Mark and Ethan's screams leaked through his hands to his ears, and he felt sick.

"Oh, Danny Boy. . ."

The voice - that voice - was too close.

Dan jerked his head up to find Anti's eyes staring gleefully into his own. He shrieked, trying to scoot backwards, but finding that there was only wall.

Anti grabbed his hair, forcing his head back, laughing.

"Don't be scared - I'm not after you yet. You'll live to see them all die~" Anti glitched, his voice distorting creepily.  
"Doesn't mean I can't have a little fun, however," Anti giggled, reminding Dan of a little boy.

A little boy from a horror film.

Or maybe hell.

Anti traced his finger across Dan's neck, leaving a trail of blood - Tyler's blood, oh God - dripping down his skin.

Dan whimpered, weakly trying to push the green-haired demon away, and Anti laughed, releasing his hair.

"You're not who Dark ordered, though~"

More glitching - and suddenly he wasn't next to Dan anymore - he was halfway across the room in front of Joe.

Zoe screamed, trying to hold on to Joe, but Anti pushed her away, leaving a bloody handprint on her shoulder.

"Say goodbye~" Anti laughed, and it echoed and bounced off of itself until Dan had to cover his ears and close his eyes.

When he opened them, Joe and Anti were gone.

Mark, Ethan, and Felix were leaning over Tyler, Ethan sobbing and holding Tyler's hand so tightly his knuckles turned white, like that would bring him back.

Mark had a conflicted expression on his face, one hand lying gently on Tyler's arm and the other clenched at his side.

Felix looked mad.

His face was contorted in anger, and Dan thought he looked like someone who was about to kill.

"You okay, Bear?" Phil's voice broke through his thoughts.

He opened his mouth to say yes, then stopped.

"No," he choked.

When night came, the moonlight found three things:

A blue-haired boy sitting and staring at the blood-stained place where his dead friend's body had been taken away.

A brown-haired boy in a jumper and skinny jeans who had cried himself to sleep in his friend's arms.

And a girl, wrapped up in her little brother's jacket, knowing that she wouldn't ever see him again - wishing for all the world she could tell him just how much she loved him and knowing that she'd never get the chance.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth wall is smashed as the author feels the need to make excuses.

Dan didn't remember falling asleep.

His head and half of his body was lying on something soft and warm.

He was perfectly content, and wondered how PJ would wake him up this morning.

Would he dump water on him again? Or blast music in his ear? Or yank his bedding off and whack him with his own pillow?

Then his pillow moved, and memories slammed into his brain.

Tyler dying, his body later taken away by Anti.

Ethan crying, Mark holding him and trying to console him.

Zoe sobbing, begging the demons for her brother back as his screams bled through the floor.

Anti laughing, and Dark's low rumble shaking the floor as Dan cried himself to sleep.

Dan gasped, sitting up.

Cried himself to sleep in Phil's arms.

The aforementioned Northerner stared at him trough sleepy eyes.  
"Dan?"

"I'm okay," Dan breathed. "Just - remembering. Sorry for falling asleep on you last night." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"'S okay," Phil yawned. "You didn't hurt me or anything."

"How are you, by the way?" Dan asked, eyeing the bloody bandages tied around the old wounds littering Phil's body.

"Oh." Phil looked down disapprovingly at them. "I don't need them anymore. I don't think. I'd forgotten about them."

"They can't have healed -" Dan started, but stopped as Phil removed a bandage to reveal a tiny scar in place of a gaping wound.

"How?" Dan asked, wonder filling his voice.

"The water."

"Come again?"

"The reason your ribs hurt so much the first day you drank the water was because it heals you the same way the demons do. Painfully. And scarringly."

"Okay, I give up. This is officially one of those books where the author needs a handy way to keep the main characters from dying from minor injuries and invents a magical thing that doesn't make any sense and never gets explained."

Phil laughed. "And there are magical beings that are all-powerful that aren't ever explained either."

"It's like a really bad fanfiction," Dan snickered.

"I'm sure some people would read it."

"Who do you think would be their favorite character?"

"Well, most people like villains, right? So, Anti?"

"Yeah, but they'd probably sympathize with Jack for having to deal with that."

"But there's also so much angst centered around Felix and Mark. The people like angst, right?"

"Well, this is all bullcrap, because everyone knows I'd be the protagonist and obviously everyone's favorite."

"Wait, why are you the protagonist?"

Dan lost himself in his fantasy world with Phil, and only noticed the outside world when Felix hissed in Swedish at him, glaring sleepily at him from his blanket burrito.

Dan was pretty sure it was something along the lines of 'Shut up'.

He'd woken up early, it seemed.

Sure enough, the sun was just starting to filter through the windows.

"Whoops, Phil whispered.

"Whispering's louder than talking," Mark (ironically) whispered, rubbing his eyes and stretching. "Guess I'm awake now."

The American then looked sadly over at Ethan, who was lying immobile on the ground, his eyes shut and his breathing even.

"How is he?" Phil asked quietly, seeing as Connor and Zoe were still sleeping.

"He'll be okay," Mark said. "It's been hard on him. He's never lost a close friend before, especially not in such a violent way."

"I told him to stop doing it," came a voice Dan wasn't familiar with.

Ethan opened his eyes.

"I told him it would only get him killed."

"Ethan," Phil sighed. "It's not your fault."

"I know," the boy sniffed. "It was his, and I told him to stop. . ."

"He was doing it because he wanted to protect us," Mark said, running his fingers through Ethan's faded blue hair, pulling out the tangles.

"But he knew it wouldn't do anything. I told him -" Ethan broke off, burying his face in his arms.

Dan wasn't good at consoling, so he stayed quiet.

Scars littered Ethan's pale, skinny arms, and one of his fingers was crooked, like it had been broken and healed incorrectly.

Guilt rose up in him like a volcano ready to explode. The only scars he had were emotional, and this kid had suffered through torture and the brutal death of a friend.  
How old was Ethan? Nineteen? Twenty?

Not old enough to be captured and tortured by sadistic and non-sensical demons.

"Go back to sleep, kid," Felix said softly. "You've had a rough night."

Ethan's face was still buried, but he complied, curling up under his faded red blanket.

Felix tucked in the corners, and Mark started rubbing Ethan's hair.

The sight warmed Dan's heart.  
Ethan was obviously the baby of the group - the one that activated everyone's parental instincts.

He looked over to see Connor sitting up, looking at the scene and smiling too.

Zoe was curled in her corner, asleep - hair a mess and tear stains still evident on her cheeks from last night.

Dan's chest hurt. He whispered a goodbye to Phil, and walked back over to his corner.

He settled down with a sigh, opening his water bottle to take a drink before remembering what Phil had said about it.

He looked at it closely, and saw the faintest red hue coloring the clear liquid.

It was akin to the color of blood, and Dan suddenly wasn't thirsty anymore.

Movement caught his eye, and he jerked his head up, watching as Connor sat down beside him.

"I haven't gotten to know you at all," Connor started, not looking Dan in the eye. "And last night made me realize that this may be the only chance I have."

Dan hadn't thought about it that way. He smiled at the nervous American, trying to lessen the nervousness the younger obviously felt.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Dan Howell."

Connor smiled, relaxing a little bit. "Hey, what's up? I'm Connor Franta."

"Fanta?"

Connor laughed. "You have no idea how many times I've gotten that. No, it's like Fanta, but with an 'r'. Franta."

"Oh," Dan said. "Wow, I'm sorry-"

"No, no," Connor reassured. "Seriously, like, on a daily basis at college - 'You're Connor Fanta, right?' And I'm like, 'Nah, bro, it's Franta,' and then they'd all apologize. I'm used to it."

Dan was surprised that he and Connor hit it off so well.

He definitely wanted to be friends with the American - he was funny, smart, and held a lot of potential.

Dan told him this, and Connor blushed, which prompted Dan to apologize.

Which made Connor apologize for making Dan apologize.

That could've gone on the entire day had food not arrived, being thrown rather unceremoniously down the stairs.

They talked over lunch, and Connor invited Phil and Zoe to sit with them.

Phil accepted, but Zoe declined, opting instead to sit in her corner.

Dan learned that Connor had originally been from Michigan, but had moved to L.A. for university.  
He was in his third year.

One year from graduating and starting a life for himself.

Connor said he had wanted to be a professional swimmer, but when it became obvious that that wasn't going to work out, he changed his dream to being a photographer or a fashion designer.

But all of that - that bright and glorious future - was gone now. It was taken from him.

Connor had no way of knowing whether or not he would live to see tomorrow. Neither did any of them there.

They were all from various points across the globe - no one was looking for them all in one spot.  
They would never be found, and they'd all die wishing they'd had more time to appreciate everything they'd had.

Felix would never get the chance to ask Marzia to be more to him, to tell her he loved her one last time.

Tyler had died knowing that he couldn't protect them all - died believing he had failed them.

Zoe would always regret the times she should've said 'I love you', but never did.

And Dan? Dan would leave his best friend, his loving parents, and everyone he ever knew with no way to say goodbye.

He felt tears come to his eyes as he thought of everything he hadn't done but could have done, and why, oh why, hadn't he just done them -

He didn't know his life would end so quickly.

"Dan?"

It was Phil and Connor, their concerned voices filling his ears but not reaching his brain.

He knew he should respond - emote - but he couldn't.

The existential crisis washed over him, the tears falling as the world disappeared and he lost himself in his thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapters seem to end when Dan falls asleep.  
> The trend is continued.  
> Also, forgot to tag the chapter itself - sucidal thoughts in this one.

/"Daniel."/ 

He started awake, lifting his head off of the floor. Connor and Phil must've moved him into his corner after he thought himself to sleep.

/"I'm glad you're awake. I was getting worried about you."/

Dan winced, sitting up as a high-pitched ringing droned in his ears, and he cracked open his eyes.

Dark's red and blue mirror images jumped out at him, and he yelped, wide awake.

The demon himself stood a few feet away from him, staring down with an unidentifiable expression.

"Liar," Ethan hissed. The boy was standing up behind the demon, and Zoe stood next to him, a concerned expression on her face.

Dark turned away from Dan to look at the blue-haired boy. 

/"Ah. You're not still mad about your friend, are you?"/ Dark asked, his voice soothing. "/We warned him, you know,"/ the demon continued, examining his fingernails. /"It wasn't your fault."/

"God, I know it's not my fault! I'm not mad at me! I'm mad at you!" Ethan howled, and Zoe put a hand on his shoulder, face frozen in fear.

Dark's body split and glitched as his words reverberated around the room, looming over Ethan.

/"Do not,"/ he growled menacingly, /"Raise your voice at me."/

Ethan opened his mouth to reply, anger lacing his features, but Zoe clamped her hand over his mouth against his protests.

/"Smart girl,"/ Dark murmured, image deflating. /"I don't want to kill anyone else. I'm on your side, boy."/

"On our side?" Mark hissed, sounding pained. "You've killed four of -"

Dark raised his hand, and the ringing increased in pitch and volume. Mark gasped, sentence cut off as his voice disappeared.  
His mouth opened and closed, and his hands flew to his throat, but no sound came out.

/"You, Mr. Fischbach, should be grateful. I do not need a host to exist, unlike Anti. You are disposable. Be glad,"/ Dark said, /"that I have not killed you."/

Mark nodded frantically, and gasped again as his voice and breath returned, falling to his knees on the ground.

/"And as for you, Connor Franta,"/ Dark said, not turning away from Mark. /"Where do you think you are going?"/

Dan tore his eyes off of Mark and looked behind Dark towards the stairs.

Connor was halfway up the staircase - halfway to freedom - frozen mid-step.

/"I'm afraid you can't leave,"/ Dark said apologetically, slowly turning to look at the American. /"I'm not finished with you yet."/

Then the demon raised an arm, his mirror images splitting out on either side, and Connor screamed.

Dan stared in horror as a sickening snap echoed throughout the room, and Connor's right arm was suddenly bent at an unnatural angle. Another snap - and he collapsed, groaning and holding his broken leg.

Dan could only watch as Connor's screams filled the air and one by one, every bone in his body snapped.

It seemed like forever before Connor's eyes rolled up into his head and his neck jerked to the side, his screams stopping.

He didn't move. His chest didn't rise or fall.

Mark let out a small whine and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Dark lowered his arm, the ringing decreasing.

He said nothing, simply walked over to the staircase and picked up Connor's mutilated body.

/"I will return him to his family,"/ Dark said. /"I have the perfect sized box. They'll be glad to get mail, don't you think?"/

He turned and smiled widely, then disappeared up the staircase, slamming the door behind him.

Phil shakily stood, then bolted to the bathroom in a sudden burst of energy. Dan heard him emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Felix was bent over Mark, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks.

Dan's heart pounded in his chest and he stared at the new bloodstains adorning the staircase.

"Oh my God," Zoe gasped. "Oh my. . ."

Ethan stood frozen, fists still balled and eyes wide with horror. 

No one moved for what seemed like hours.

Finally, the door flew open again, and Jack's faded green hair caught Dan's eye.

The door slammed shut, and Jack stumbled weakly down the stairs, breath catching in his throat at the sight of the blood.

He jerked his head up, staring around the room, then sat down heavily on the stairs.

"Zoe," he whispered, so quietly Dan almost couldn't hear him. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry. . ."

Zoe hesitantly walked over to him, sitting down at his side. "It's okay," she murmured, tears falling fast and silently down her cheeks. "It's okay."

"He's dead," Jack said hoarsely. "Joe's dead. And now Connor?" His voice choked up near the end and he buried his head in his arms.

Phil, who Dan hadn't seen come back into the room, sat down beside him, leaning his head on Dan's shoulder. Moisture soaked through his shirt to his skin, and Dan let out a rugged breath, joining Phil in crying.

"I'm tired," Jack said, voice muffled in his shirt sleeves. "I'm so tired. Please, one of you . . ." The Irishman looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. "Please, I can't take it anymore. . ."

Dan's eyes widened at the implication of Jack's words.

"Hell, no."

Felix stood up, glaring at Jack with everything he had.

"You shut your mouth, Jack," Felix said, taking a step towards Jack. The green haired man flinched, but Felix kept talking. "I don't care if you're tired. You're not getting out of this that easily. And how dare you ask that of us? It doesn't make any sense."

Jack laughed humorlessly. "It makes perfect sense. If I'm gone -"

"Then he'll just possess someone else," Felix snapped. "Killing yourself or having us kill you won't change that. It's not you," he said, tone of voice softening. "If it had been, I would've killed you already. None of us blame you, Jack."

Jack buried his face again, and Zoe rubbed circles into his back.

No one spoke for a very long time.

Soon, Dan heard Phil's breath even out next to him, and he leaned against the corner, eyelids heavy.

There were only seven of them left.

Seven out of twelve or more people who had been kidnapped by these things.

A last tear slid down his cheek and then he fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter in which Dan falls asleep for a long time and Ethan discovers a way out.

Dan thought Zoe was in shock.

She'd stopped crying, at least, but she didn't talk or interact.

Jack wasn't much better. Mark had woken up the next morning, as healthy as everyone else, and had spent the whole afternoon just sitting next to the Irishman.

Ethan tried to comfort Zoe, but gave up talking after an hour and copied Mark, sitting and not talking.

The next time Dan looked over at them, Zoe was leaning on his shoulder.

"Nothing's going right."

Phil's voice sounded from beside him, startling him.

"Everything's going wrong," Dan said softly back, leaning on Phil.

"That's the same thing I said, Bear."

"Mine sounded better."

Silence reigned.

"Phil?" Dan asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why - " Dan paused, wondering how to phrase it. "Why did Anti say that I'd live to see you all die?"

Phil was silent for so long Dan was afraid he'd fallen asleep again.

"I don't know."

"I waited that long for an 'I don't know'? Phil, I -" his voice caught in his throat. "I want to know why I have to watch you die."

"I don't know, Dan," Phil said, sounding a little frustrated. Dan knew he was only scared. "You must be more important than me - "

"Shut up," Dan hissed. "I'm an emo college failure who works at a fast food restaurant. How on earth am I more important than a thirty-year old with a degree in English, leading a respectable career?"

Nothing was said after that, although there were many things to be said.

Phil's hand found Dan's on the cold stone floor, rubbing circles into the back of his hand with his thumb.

And if Dan started crying after that, no one mentioned it.

Anti seemed to be giving Jack a break over the next few days, which was good for everyone.

Mark was trying so hard to get Jack up into high spirits, but watching his body commit three murders had really taken a toll on him.

Ethan had coerced Zoe into eating a little every day.

But one day, Dark came down and everything went to hell.

He watched as Mark crumpled, knocked out with a flick of the demon's wrist.

Felix screamed an obscenity in Swedish, but he couldn't move.

None of them could.

The demon smiled, grabbed Dan's arm in a vise-like grip, and disappeared into a shower of red pixels, taking Dan with him.

It felt like being torn apart and sewed back together with a rusted needle.

When it was over, he was lying on the ground, and Dark crouched beside him, a bloody knife clenched in his hand.

He didn't even remember the specifics of what happened to him after that - all he remembered was the pain.

He could remember the feel of his skin burning and tearing and his bones cracking, bringing him to the edge of death but never, not once, did he pass out.

If a wound ever went too deep, the demon simply stopped and healed it, smiling as Dan screamed.

Burning, freezing, breaking, ripping, cutting.

He didn't remember how long it lasted, but time doesn't matter when all you know is agony.

And then it was over, and Dan couldn't breathe.

When he'd been healed enough so that he wouldn't die in the next week, he was thrown unceremoniously down the stairs in a heap of sobbing, bloody mess.

He flinched when they touched him, cried out when his wounds stung. It hurt like hell times ten.

He detached his mind from everything as they frantically shouted above him, and let himself float away.

When he started to regain consciousness, he was wrapped in a warm blanket, and someone was murmuring a song in another language.

PJ spoke a little bit of Italian. Was that PJ?

If it was, then curse the boy for waking him up with his singing.

He was tired, goddammit Peej. . .

So he slept again, unaware of the voice stopping, of Jack screaming, of Anti laughing, and the door slamming.

Unaware of the fact that yet another one of them was gone, dragged upstairs to be murdered.

Unaware of the screams filtering down through the floor.

Unaware of the sudden silence that spoke a thousand words no one wanted to hear.

Unaware of Mark curling up into a ball, crying silent tears.

Unaware of Zoe sitting silently, ears covered tightly with her hands.

Unaware of Felix squeezing his eyes shut, face laden with grief.

Unaware of Phil holding his hand and watching the steady drip of Ethan Nestor's blood fall from the floorboards.

Dan slept on.

Blissfully unaware.


	10. I'd like to have a conversation with you, dear reader.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I must resort to unconventional storytelling.

Hello. I am the Host.

If you're wondering who I am, that's perfectly fine. I have not revealed myself until now.

Don't worry. I am harmless.

To you, anyway.

I apologize for the unorthodox way of telling this certain part of the story, but I cannot think of any other way to make sure you comprehend.

Please, follow me. This way.

Here we are.

What's that? Oh. Yes. I meant to bring you here.

I know it is dark. But look closer, would you?

See him? The boy, standing alone in the dark, vast, nothing?

Yes. He is the one we have come for.

Shh - he is about to speak.

"Are you there?" the boy asks, his voice carrying the pitch of youth although the bags under his eyes tell a different story.

He's wearing a blue T-shirt emblazoned with a faded band logo and jeans, hair unbrushed and falling loose around his face.  
Glasses are perched precariously on his nose.

"Yeah, Daniel." The other boy materializes, his body building up from the ground in little red pixels. He adjusts his white T-shirt and smiles as his best friend.

Despite what you may think, this is not Daniel Howell and Phil Lester.

This is a much more horrible tale.

We must leave the boys alone in the dark, vast, emptiness for the time being and focus in on a lonely, rundown telephone pole.

It resides on a neglected street in a small town in South Carolina. It is covered in torn and ripped flyers, posters, and stabbed with multiple nails and staples.

It appears to be nothing out of the ordinary.

But our attention is not on the pole itself.

It is on a single flyer nailed on it from ten years ago, the writing faded and the paper torn.

MISSING

DANIEL LEE KYRE  
ELIJAH RYAN MAGEE

The details underneath are not important.

It is only the pictures of two smiling boys, aged seven and eight, and their families' desperate plea for their return.

Unfortunately, they were found dead nine years ago.

Yes, it is horrible.

Their bodies were mutilated almost beyond recognition, but it was them.

They were gone. Free from the world.

They left behind a friend, however.

His name was Mark.

And his is another story, for another time.

The police caught the murderer of Daniel and Ryan.

William, he called himself. William - and he made sure that the police knew purple was his favorite color.

He openly admitted everything he had done to the boys, going into gruesome detail with nothing but pure delight on his face.

He was sentenced to life in prison.

Let's focus in on his case file, shall we? It's heavily locked in a filing cabinet, but we have no restrictions here.

I'll read it for you.

Daniel Lee Kyre - aged eight at time of death.

Injuries include - broken limbs, multiple lacerations and burns, metal implants in various parts of his body, including the brain.

Oh dear.

This really is horrible.

You see, William was a mad scientist.

He wanted to find a way to pull souls back into their bodies - to give them the power to inhabit whatever they chose. And, if possible, mold it to that object.

And yes, my dear reader, it does seem impossible.

The police certainly thought so.

Daniel and Ryan did not think it so impossible after being torn apart and sewn back together with different metal parts and wires and serums he injected into them, surviving over and over and wishing they hadn't.

William told the police his experiments failed.

Daniel did not exhibit any signs of his soul leaving his body after his death.

Ryan's results were the same.

William was caught, tried, and sentenced.

Two caskets were lowered into the ground, side by side.

And that, dear reader, would appear to be the end of the story.

But we know more than the weeping people at the funeral.

We know of the dark, vast, nothing.

And of the two boys trapped inside it.

William's experiments did not accomplish his goals, yes.

But that does not mean they failed.

Alas, I have run out of time. That is my one restriction. We shall resume next time, yes?

I hope that bit of backstory wasn't too boring.

I understand if you think you clicked on the wrong story.

Pardon the change of perspective.

This is essential to understanding everything going on, dear reader.

I hope you do not mind.


	11. And so the conversation ends.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to know who I am - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8x1pj15-U8&list=PLnXzasx2xMi6ofwgnc3iMMipysjS55_hy

Hello again.

I apologize for the break.

I hope you're not angry, as the longer I talk, the more I prolong the story.

I suppose the people in the basement should be grateful for the break, although they do not know of its existence.

To them, time travels on.

But to us? We have all the time in the world.

Ah - listen. The boys from earlier - remember them? Daniel and Ryan?

They're talking. As best friends often do.

Daniel treasures these times. So does Ryan.

They are the only times they can talk and be themselves.

To understand, we must go back to William.

Unknown to the police, Daniel and Ryan were not his first victims.

Young Nathan Sharp and his friend Matthew Patrick went missing and were found months later - with Nathan laughing and standing over Matthew's dead and mangled corpse with blood coating his hands.

The police deemed him insane and guilty of the murder, and Nathan lasted two weeks in the asylum before ripping himself to pieces.

People who saw it happen swore he dissolved into green pixels, but no one believes the words of the insane.

But the fact that there was no body left behind was an unsolved mystery.

No one knew that William had subjected Nathan to his tortures and his real body lay decaying six feet underneath the ground.

The one that disintegrated before their eyes was his soul.

William had succeeded in his soul experiments. He'd succeeded in mutilating and contorting the poor boy's soul so he lived on after death.

But he was unstable. He was insane, and tore himself to pieces within weeks.

The results were not what William wanted, so he tried again.

Enter Daniel and Ryan.

He conducted the same experiments on Ryan as he had on Nathan. They molded better to Ryan's soul than they had to the unfortunate Mr. Sharp.

William tried something new with Daniel. The results it would have were unknown.

When both boys died and no signs of souls remained, he flew into a rage, cutting and hacking the boy's bodies until they were just as mangled as their souls.

You know the rest of William's story.

But we move on to Daniel and Ryan.

Ryan's soul woke up and found himself staring at his own decaying body.

He screamed, but there was no sound. He didn't know what had happened or how he'd gotten there.

His memories were gone - he couldn't even remember what his own face looked like.

There was only one other face he remembered.

 

Daniel's soul woke up in complete darkness.

He screamed, but there was no sound. He didn't know what had happened or how he'd gotten there.

His memories were gone - he couldn't even remember what his own face looked like.

There was only one other face he remembered.

He screamed his best friend's name, and this time the blackness brightened.

Confusion engulfed him, and he yelled once more into the darkness.

An image flared brightly in the void - two broken and bloody boys strapped down to tables, faces unrecognizable.

Memories flooded him.

Hate and anger rose up in his chest and he screamed, grabbing his hair in his fists.

The void dissolved in a burst of green static.

When he opened his eyes, he was clutching a bathroom sink with hands that weren't his own, and the face in the mirror stared back with dark green eyes through a mop of green hair.

Possessing is a nasty business.

Poor Sean 'Jack' McLoughlin never knew what hit him until it was too late.

I assume you can put the pieces together.

There is one thing about souls - they only survive if seeking revenge. Nathan wanted revenge - but it overpowered him.

Daniel wanted revenge. He was going to get it - and it didn't matter who he killed.

It had taken ten years for the souls to awaken. And that was ten years too many.

Daniel slowly learned to control his new body, pushing the limits of the mortal vessel. He was consumed by anger and pain in this body, and he took joy in terrorizing his host's neighbors and family.

There were odd problems that occurred every now and then. Glitches - short breakthroughs of his host's soul over his.

They never lasted long.

He became a sadistic, twisted shell of his former soul, anger consuming and driving his every move.

After a bit, he discovered he could go back.

He did - retreating.

Back to the darkness - and he watched in horror as his host stared around at his broken life, weak and shivering from exhaustion.

The hate and anger were satiated, but Daniel could feel them rising.

He never wanted to become - that - again.

But he couldn't stay in the darkness forever. He needed to get out - let it out - be the monster he was made to be -

 

Ryan had been standing immobile at his and Daniel's graves for days.

No one could see him or hear him or touch him.

He couldn't even see his own body.

Anger had been broiling in him - anger at the injustices and the need for revenge.

But he couldn't touch anyone - see anyone.

So when a green-haired Irishman waked up to him and stared him in the eyes, he almost fell backwards in shock.

"Ryan?" The man asked in a strange voice.

And Ryan nodded, too confused and startled to answer.

"It's me," the man said, and Ryan looked back in his eyes and saw -

"Daniel," he said. But nothing sounded.

"It's okay," Daniel said through his host. "I'll help you."

Ryan felt Daniel's arm on his, an suddenly they were in an old, wooden cabin.

In the basement, it appeared.

A shaking figure was curled in the corner, red hair visible through his arms.

"It's Mark," Daniel said, and the man jerked his head up. "Remember?"

Ryan did. He knew they used to be friends, despite the age gap of almost ten years. He remembered faint memories of laughter and hugs and s'mores by a fire.

But all that was gone - taken away from him.

"You're angry," Daniel hissed suddenly, and his grip on Ryan tightened. "Now use it."

At Daniel's words, the anger exploded.

Ryan screamed, pain lacing up his non-existent body, and he watched in horrific wonder as a body built itself up from the ground.

Dressed in a grey suit, black hair falling in his face.

Daniel looked shocked. "M-"

Mark screamed from the corner. His eyes were wide in shock.

"You - you didn't -" Daniel shook his host's head. "Oh well. This is just as good. Can you talk now? Dark?"

Ryan stared at Daniel's host, face wrinkling up at the name.

/"What did you call me?"/ he asked, and his voice was several octaves lower than usual.

"Dark," Daniel laughed. It was staticky and glitchy, and didn't suit him at all. "It's your new name~"

Ryan listened in fascination as the end of his sentence warped and overlapped with the laugh from before.

/"And who are you?"/ Ryan - no, in this form he was Dark - asked.

"Anti~" the green-haired man giggled. Daniel had always giggled like that. He'd always liked stupid names like that too.

But this was Anti. This was Dark.

Different people. Not Daniel and Ryan. Different people. One had no influence on the other.

Dark smirked, bemused, at Mark curled up in the corner.

/"One is not enough,"/ he said, focusing all his energy on Mark. /"I need more. We need more."/

It felt good. He poured out his pain onto the poor man, feeling his strength increasing.

Words kept flowing smoothly out of his mouth, a strange, high pitch rising in the air, until Mark lay unconscious on the floor.

He wanted to be horrified by what he'd done to his friend. But he wasn't.

Anti laughed. "Good job. Now, come with me - follow me~"

His host's eyes rolled up in his head and Anti was gone.

Dark stared at the collapsed bodies on the floor.

He didn't know what to do.

So he let go, and watched his body dissolve into red pixels.

He was Ryan again, and horror at what he'd done washed over him in a wave.

Where was Daniel? He needed Daniel.

He pictured his best friend and concentrated with all his might.

When he opened his eyes, his body was his own again - free of scars and metal platings. And Daniel sat curled up in the middle of a dark, vast nothing.

"What's happened to me?" Daniel whispered. "Why am I so angry?"

Ryan walked over to his best friend.

"I don't know," he said, and Daniel shot up, wrapping him in a hug.

"I don't want to go back out."

Neither did Ryan. But he could already feel the anger returning, full force.

"Then stay for a while. As long as you can."

Daniel nodded.

Eventually, however, it became too much.

Another person was stolen away to the basement to satiate their need for revenge.

And another.

And another.

You know the story now.

Hopefully this cleared up a couple things.

My writer will be willing to answer any questions you may have. I cannot speak directly to you anymore, as my power is dwindling here. I am much stronger inside the story. Much stronger when I am the one narrating it.

Please. Ask if you are confused. I do not want anything to go missed.

My writer is very ill at the moment. He may be inconsistent in answering.

But I will make sure he does.

Thank you for taking to time to read what I have to say.

~ the Host


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two stories collide.

Dan was cold when he woke up.

He hated the cold.

It was black, and he couldn't seem to open his eyes. He shifted, wincing.

Someone was speaking now. He couldn't tell who.

"You're okay." Soothing circles were being rubbed into his hand now. "You'll be fine. You're all healed up."

(Healing was never explained, and I know you're wondering.)

(A side effect, William would say.)

(Science is a magical thing, is it not?)

The words didn't register in his brain. Nothing did, really.

He fell back into the blackness.

The next time his eyes opened, a feminine voice was singing softly. Her hands stroked his hair.

Zoe stopped as soon as she noticed he was awake, but he didn't last long enough to ask her to continue.

Over the course of time and several awakenings, he heard Felix's Swedish and Jack's Irish accents; Mark's low voice, Zoe's high voice and Phil's Northern one. He heard all of them talking quietly together, but sometimes one of them would hold him close and cry so that no one else could hear.

Most often, it was Jack.

Phil was the one who stayed by his side the most, and was the one who was there when he woke up fully.

Pain laced through his chest and limbs, and his eyes burned from crying so many tears. His nerves tingled with pain he would never forget and his throat was raw from screaming.

He let out a groan as someone placed a hand on his.

"Careful."

Dan croaked out his friend's name, trying to prop himself up with one hand.

He was failing.

"Shh, Bear." Phil's voice was shaking. "He's awake."

The last part was louder, and accompanied by the sounds of rustling and hurried footsteps.

He cracked open his eyes, light piercing them, forcing him to shut them again.

"Hey, Dan," Felix said softly.

Dan slowly adjusted his eyes to the light filtering in from the windows.

Jack grabbed his hand and helped Dan sit up.

"You thirsty?" It was Zoe. She was holding a water bottle in her hand, offering it to him.

He nodded, wincing as the action caused his nerves to scream in protest.

"Careful," Phil said again, and Dan weakly swatted his hand.

As he slowly accepted the bottle and opened it, he noticed Mark sitting in the far corner, looking away from the group so his face couldn't be seen.

After taking a few small sips of the water and closing it, Dan tried using his voice.

"Mark?" It was hoarse and cracked in the middle of the name, but it got the man's attention.

His head turned to look at them, and Dan realized why he might have hidden himself away.

He'd somehow forgotten that Mark was a dead ringer for Dark.

His brain told him to PANIC, PANIC NOW AND RUN, but he told himself to calm down. There were subtle differences.

Mark's hair was fluffier. He had a scar directly along his jaw. He was wearing a blue jacket and not a suit and tie. A watch was resting on his wrist -

Dan dropped the water bottle.

Mark flinched and looked away, but Dan wasn't focused on his face anymore.

That watch didn't belong to Mark. Neither did the jacket.

"Where's Ethan?"

The boy was the only one missing from the group, and there were no sounds from above.

No one answered, and Dan saw Jack stiffen out of the corner of his eye.

"Where's Ethan?" he said again, and his voice was stronger this time.

"Dan -"

"Felix," Dan snapped back, panic beginning to set in. Ethan had to be alive. He had to be.

"Dead," Zoe said softly. "Just after you got back. They took him upstairs -"

Dan's heart crashed down into his feet.

He'd never gotten particularly close to Ethan, but in a way he'd been the life and hope of the group. He was young, only twenty, and carried around that air of youthful innocence despite all he had seen.

He hadn't deserved to die. He deserved a life, and a job, and a family - he deserved so much more than this.

He didn't realize there were tears falling down his cheeks until Zoe wiped them away.

"He's with Tyler now."

The voice startled Dan, shocking him out of his thoughts.

Mark hadn't moved and was simply staring at the wall across from him.

"They were best friends. Lived just down the street from me and -" His voice caught. "Nevermind." He looked at Dan. "You okay?"

Dan nodded, trying to smile - trying to convey that he wasn't scared of Mark.

He didn't know if it worked or not because Mark turned away again.

"You should be okay," Phil said, handing him the water again. "Any major injuries you had they healed already, and the water should do the rest."

"Why do they do that?" Dan asked, looking down at his arm. A long scar ran from his elbow to his wrist, and one of his fingers was crooked. "Why do they heal us if they're just going to kill us in the end? Why do they feed us and take extra care to make sure we survive?"

"So you last longer," Jack muttered. "So they can torture you as much as they can before needing to fix you. So they can hurt you as much as they want and then do it again five seconds later."

Dan stared.

"Sorry," Jack said sheepishly. "That's the honest answer."

The conversation turned to a different topic after that.

Zoe and Felix made sure he was okay, then walked over to sit next to Mark. Phil joined them after talking with Dan for a few minutes.

Jack was eerily quiet.

"Can I -" Dan stopped, unsure of himself. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Are there any other kind?" Jack smiled.

"When - when did Anti first possess you?"

Jack's smile dropped, but he answered the question anyway. "About two years ago. I was at home, in Ireland. I lived alone, see, and one day I was brushing my hair in the bathroom when -" Jack looked down. "I wasn't in control of my body anymore. It hurt, too - like someone else had shoved and clawed their way into my brain."

Dan didn't know what to say. So he stayed quiet.

"At first, he wasn't that mean. He just acted confused. I tried to talk to him, but nothing would sound. I was stuck in this weird black nothingness with a picture of what he was seeing through my eyes in front of me.

"After a day or so, he started getting crazier and crazier. My family and friends were getting worried about me, so my girlfriend decided to check in."

Dan could see where this was going.

"She showed up at my door. He let her in, and she thought she was going crazy because of his glitching. He cornered her and killed her," Jack said, voice shaking. "And I couldn't do anything about it. The police showed up - Signe had called them, she was smart -" Here his voice cracked and he cleared it, moving on. "Of course that's when he decided to leave and let me out again. I had no excuses, and I was scared and crying and -" Jack shook his head. "There was no denying the evidence. I was obviously the murderer - kneeling over my dead girlfriend, covered in her blood. They took me to the station, but before anything else could happen, Anti transported me to a cabin in the woods - this one." Jack smiled sadly. "After a while, he used me again and kidnapped Mark, then - I don't know, some crazy stuff went down. He was talking to nothing in a graveyard, then we were back here and Dark appeared -" he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

There were so many things Dan wanted to say - 'I'm sorry' being the main one, but he couldn't make his mouth work.

Instead, he leaned over to rest his head on the Irishman's shoulder.

They stayed that way for a long time, until Jack's breath hitched and he shoved Dan away from him.

"No, no, no!" He screamed, but the static took over and his voice disappeared in a loud screech of anger that could only come from Anti.

The demon's eyes were shut tight, hands grabbing at his hair. Something was wrong - more wrong than usual. Dan was automatically wary and scared, as was everyone else, but something told him the demon's focus was not on them.

"He's alive!" Anti howled, voice cracking and overlapping with ferocity. Dan had never seen him so angry.

Then Dan saw something that confirmed his theory that something was off.

Tears were falling thick and fast from Anti's eyes.

"Ryan," Anti screamed, voice breaking. "RYAN!"

Dark materialized, building up from the ground. Dan flinched, moving further back into the wall.

/"What do you want, you -"/ Dark stopped as he stared at Anti. /"What the hell is wrong -"/

"He's alive," Anti yelled, gesturing wildly, voice still wavering. "William's alive!"

Dan had no idea who William was, but apparently Dark did.

/"What?"/

Dan didn't know how that one word could be spoken so calmly yet hold so much emotion. Pain, anger.

Fear.

Anti yelled nothing more and simply grabbed Dark's arm.

They disappeared in a burst of green and red, and Dan knew that scene had been the most unsettling thing he'd ever see in his life.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William is found.
> 
> Chapter warning - gore

"What the. . ."

Felix's voice shook.

"I don't know," Mark said, still frozen in place up against the wall.

Zoe and Phil stood side-by-side, hands on each other's shoulders.

Dan replayed the scene in his head over and over, trying to make sense of it all.

"Who's Ryan?" He asked, recalling the name Anti had shouted just before Dark had materialized.

Mark stiffened, but shook his head. "I don't know. Fe?"

The Swede didn't say anything. He just stood, eyebrows furrowed.

"None of that made any sense," Zoe murmured. "Is it a trick?"

"What would they be trying to fool us into?" Dan asked.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find an answer. "I don't know," she moaned, putting her head in her hands. "I'm tired. I want to go home or wake up or whatever it takes to get out of here!" She shouted the last part, and Phil put his arm around her shoulders.

"Don't we all," Mark said.

"I miss him," she whimpered. "I'm sorry -" she dragged her hand across her eyes, smearing the tears across her face. "I'm having a mental breakdown -"

"We all miss Joe," Felix muttered. "We've all cried over people we've lost." The shadow that crossed his face made Dan shudder.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Dan said quietly.

Felix stood unmoving, like he hadn't heard Dan.

"Someone try the door," Mark said, standing up to do just that. He disappeared up the stairs, and Dan heard the doorknob rattle. "Dammit," Mark shouted from the top. "Still locked."

"So are they gone?" Zoe's voice was hopeful. "Are they coming back?"

"I hope so," Dan said. When incredulous looks were cast on him, he elaborated. "To open the door. If they don't come back, we're stuck in here with no food and no way out. We'd be no better off."

Apparently he made sense because no one was looking at him strangely anymore.

About thirty minutes later, they were all sitting down, an intense game of 'Never Have I Ever' being won by Dan, who apparently had the least exciting life. Felix was losing.

Their game was interrupted by a slamming noise and intense shouting from above.

The door slammed open and the basement inhabitants shot up, backing into the nearest corner.

A man was thrown down the stairs, landing rather hard on the stone floor. Dan was shocked to hear him laughing instead of screaming in pain, but he slowly stood up, smiling and giggling like it was the best day of his life. He was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit stained with red, blood already flowing from several deep cuts on his face. His hair was an odd bright purple.

Dark and Anti stormed down behind him.

Dark's hair was mussed and he'd taken off his suit jacket and tie, leaving a white long sleeved shirt as his only upper covering. It was stained with red.  
Anti was a mess - tears still flowing and body still glitching and crackling fiercely.

Anti seemed the most stressed, but Dan thought that if Dark was an emotional being he'd be crying right along with the green-haired demon.

Dark rushed the man and pinned his arms behind his back, holding him immobile.

The demons didn't acknowledge the other people in the basement, but the purple-haired man looked over, staring at them with a strange glint in his eye.

"These poor people," he said, and his voice sent chills down Dan's spine. "My dears, have you been hurting them?"

Anti growled - a guttural sound Dan had never heard him make before and he hoped he'd never hear again. His fingernails grew extremely sharp and he wrapped them around the man's throat, not caring as they sliced skin. "You made me," he shouted, and his words were barely understandable through the overlapping. "This is all your fault!"

The man laughed again, and Dan wanted to cover his ears. As unsettling and scary the demons were, this man was somehow ten times worse. "Daniel, sweet. You say that like a bad thing. Do you not know - you are a miracle! So beautiful and wondrous!"

Dan stared, confused. Who was Daniel? Was that Anti's real name?

Anti howled at him.. He moved his hand to sink his nails into the man's scalp, forcing his head up, his other hand scratching deep gouges into the man's face.

Dan thought for sure that the man would scream, and was not incorrect, but afterwards he simply laughed.

"I taught you that, Danny," he said, staring at Anti with what Dan could only describe as a perverse pride. "Now tell me - how did you manage to posses  
this poor man, pet?"

Anti seemed to be getting more angry by the second. "I'm not your pet," he screamed, slicing at the man again. "I never was!" Dan noticed that with every wound inflicted on the man, Anti's voice got more and more stable and his body glitched less and less.

"Now, now," the man tutted, spitting blood from the corner of his mouth. "We talked about that temper of yours. It only gets people in trouble, remember?"

/"You can't hurt me this time,"/ Dark said, and his voice sounded weaker - like there was some power gone from it. The ringing was almost nonexistent. /"You have no power here."/

"Don't I, Elijah?" The man smiled, unable to turn his head to look at Dark. "I think I do."

When the name was spoken, Dark flickered, his body breaking apart then solidifying.

"You're still scared of me, dears," the man said, smiling although blood fell like a crimson waterfall from his mutilated face. "I created you. I -"

"Created them?"

Dan whirled around to look behind him. Mark was staring in horror at the man, fists clenched at his sides.

"You're the one who killed them," the American whispered, then said it again, louder. "You killed them. My friends - those are my friends -"

Mark wasn't making sense to Dan, and no one else seemed to understand either.

The man laughed. "Put it together, have you? You must be Mark. I see Elijah must have liked your looks."

"His name is Ryan," Mark said, his voice shaking. "And that's Daniel. Not your pets, not your dears. My friends," he said, and his voice cracked. "What did you do to them?"

"I made them live forever," the man grinned. "And now that I know it worked, I need to try again. I need more results, it needs to happen faster -"

The man's sentence was cut off by a groan as Dark twisted his arms behind his back. Dan was pretty sure one of them had popped out of its socket.

"You won't," Anti said, and his voice was as clear as Dan had ever heard it. Now that the static was gone, he could make out two voices - Jack's, and the voice of a young boy. "You won't do anything to anyone ever again."

The next few minutes were horrific.

The man was given no time to speak or laugh as the demons tore into him. They literally tore him apart with their bare hands, and Dan had to look away.

Blood flowed in a red river across the stone floor, and Dan's shoes were soaked in it by the time the demons finished.

The man's body was unrecognizable - it was nothing but a pile of blood, guts, and flesh.

Dan heard Felix retch from behind him.

Anti and Dark stood side-by-side, facing the basement inhabitants, odd looks on their faces. Dan was sure that they'd be attacked next, but nothing happened.

Then Dark opened his mouth. "Mark?"

His voice was not anywhere near his old register. It was high pitched and young.

Scared.

Mark jerked his head up, tears forming in his eyes. "Ryan? Is that really -"

Dark rushed Mark, and he jerked back - but all the demon did was wrap the American in a hug.

Mark slowly curled his arms around his doppelgänger, and as he did so, the demon shrank, form changing and warping into a boy, maybe seven or eight, with black hair and tears flowing down his face. Ryan buried his head in Mark's shoulder, streaming apologies and words no one but Mark could hear.

Anti stared at the scene with an unreadable look, and as Dark turned into Ryan he scowled, clenching his fists and squeezing his eyes shut.

Green pixels shot out of his body, building up into another boy - messy brown hair and the bluest eyes Dan had ever seen covered by glasses.

Daniel.

Jack's eyes shot open, and he stood frozen.

Daniel stared at the Irishman, face screwed up in remorse and sadness.

His guilt was interrupted by Ryan slamming into him with a hug, and Daniel returned it, hiding his face in Ryan's shoulder.

Jack stared at the two, no fear in his features.

Felix looked confused, as did Phil.

Zoe looked like she was going to be sick.

Ryan gently pulled away from Daniel, turning him to look at the others, then doing the same himself.

They opened their mouths and spoke three words in unison.

"I'm so sorry."

They looked as if they wanted to say more, but before they could, their bodies dissolved, green and red pixels floating through the air then disappearing.  
The remains of the man dissapeared as well, sickly yellow pixels sinking through the ground, leaving no trace of blood or gore behind.

Mark took a step forward, then fell to his knees and started to cry.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. It's not enough to compensate. This chapter is extremely short, you have been warned.

It was a long time before anyone moved.

Mark cried silently on the floor, his head buried in his arms.

Eventually, Jack stumbled backwards, sliding down the wall when he hit it. 

Zoe covered her mouth with the back of her hand, tears welling up.

"What. . ." Phil's voice cut through the silence. "What just happened?"

No one answered, but Mark sniffed and straightened, wiping his eyes and trying to compose himself.

"I'm going to be sick," Felix said, and then said something in Swedish, joining Mark and Jack on the floor. His arm was wrapped around his stomach, the other hand across his mouth.

"The door's open," Jack said quietly. "It's open and they're gone."

Zoe jerked her hand off of her mouth. "We can leave?" Her voice was hopeful.

"I -" Jack sighed. "I don't know."

"Let's go," Mark said, and stood up, a serious expression on his face. Sadness seeped from every crack in his facade.

He walked towards the stairs and Dan followed.

Then Jack.

Then Zoe.

Then Phil and Felix.

Together they marched up the stairs and Mark led the way into the hallway.

It was just as Dan remembered. Oak walls and picture frames lining the hallway. 

They were all empty except for one at the end of the hallway. It held a grainy photo of two boys, covered in mud and laughing.

Daniel and Ryan.

Dan shuddered and followed Mark into the main room. He hated this room and immediately felt everyone else stiffen. 

Blood stained the floorboards and walls and carpet and Dan knew that some of it was his.

Zoe grabbed his arm and he looked at her. She was shaking, and he cautiously put his arm around her.

"The key to the front door is under that rug," Jack said, voice still unusually quiet.

Dan wondered how he would know that but then remembered Anti. No - wait - Daniel.

Felix lifted the corner and Phil grabbed the silver key. 

It all seemed too easy.

Mark was the only one who didn't seem concerned about the demons coming back. He took the key when Phil offered it and walked over to the door, unlocking it.

Dan felt a rush of excitement as the door swung open, creaking as it did so. He was free. They were all finally free. 

They rushed for the door and Dan was the first one out, and he spun around, staring at the bright sun filtering through the trees. He breathed in deeply and smiled, hearing the cabin door shut behind him.

Phil laughed, and the sound was so unexpected that Dan flinched. But Phil's laugh was contagious and soon they were all laughing and hugging each other, joy over finally, finally getting out of there and getting to go home making them all lose their minds.

Eventually, however, Felix stopped smiling long enough to ask, "So how are we going to get back to civilization?"

No one had an answer and the laughing died down. 

"Path?" Mark suggested, motioning to the dirt trail that led deeper into the forest. "It has to lead somewhere."

"I mean, it's as good a plan as any," Zoe said, and started forward.

"I'm not going," Jack said. 

Everyone stared at him.

"What do you mean?" Dan asked.

"I need to stay here."

"Like hell you're staying here -" 

Jack cut Felix off, staring into his eyes. "Someone has to stay here. Someone has to take the blame. And I've got enough blood on my hands to turn the Nile. I'm guilty anyway -"

"But it wasn't your fault," Mark said, sounding desperate. "We'll tell them it was William, or -"

"There are no bodies left behind to back you up," Jack said, staring at the forest floor. "I'm the only one that could've done this."

"No, you're not -" Phil started.

"I could've done it!" Mark shouted, stepping towards Jack. "Anyone here could've done it!"

"I'm the one they're looking for!" Jack shouted back, and his voice echoed through the trees. "They know my face - they saw it when he took Zoe and Joe! They don't know about any others and I'd like to keep it that way!"

"We've come too far," Mark said, voice wavering. "Too far to lose you now."

Jack laughed softly. "I was lost from the beginning."

Dan wanted to side with Mark and slap Jack upside the head until he went with them, but if everything he'd said was true then he'd be pegged for the crimes anyway.

As much as he hated to admit it. . .

Mark's mouth was open, but no words were forming.

"Mark," Phil whispered. He cleared his throat. "Let's go."

Mark shut his mouth but didn't move.

Zoe moved over to the start of the tree surrounded path, arms wrapped around herself and a tear slipping down her cheek. She threw her arms around Jack in a hug, then moved to stand by Felix.

Dan didn't quite know what to do so he put a hand on Mark's shoulder and slowly guided him towards the path.

Jack hugged the American one last time, and Mark started to cry again.

Felix shook Jack's hand, but then pulled him forward into a fierce hug.

When they pulled away, no one moved.

No one wanted to leave Jack behind.

"We'll know the truth," Dan found himself saying. Everyone looked at him.

"We'll know it wasn't you, and that's all that matters." He felt a tear forming and scrubbed at his eyes.

This wasn't fair. They couldn't just abandon one of their own.

They'd have to testify against him in court. . .

Dan turned and started walking before he could think any more.

Zoe and Phil followed him and Felix lightly pushed Mark forwards.

The cabin door slammed again behind him as Jack ran back inside and everyone flinched as his muffled sobs leaked through the walls.

They walked forwards and onwards, and each step echoed like a gunshot in Dan's ears.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait.

Dan doesn't quite know how this job fell to him, but it's his now and they're all depending on him.

He's waiting at the police station in a small town four hours walking time from the forest path.

The others are all crowded in the small waiting room behind him, staring anxiously.

The cabin was in England - a good long way from any civilization. He wonders if this town even has working electricity.

He finally gets an audience, and when he's done telling the tale, they give them all a wide-eyed free drive to the nearest city - Brighton.

He gets to tell it again there, and by the time they start working on the case he's sick of his own voice.

He just condemned Jack to death.

Their families are contacted.

Zoe's parents are closest, and he can't take the looks on their faces as they see that they only have one child now.

Mark is given a plane ticket and a call to the Los Angeles police department is made. He's gone before anyone can say goodbye.

Felix is met by a girl with auburn hair, black roots showing through. He calls her Emma, and she rambles about pugs and why his parents couldn't come.

He can see the fear and relief in her eyes. She doesn't know what to expect. 

They leave, and it's just him and Phil.

A man with red hair strides into the room, and Phil immediately runs to him.

It's Martyn, his brother. They're about the same height, but Martyn is older.

The big brother hustles Phil out the door, and is replaced by a man of equal height.

His green eyes focus in on Dan, and there's no time to react before he's wrapped in a hug.

Dan can hear PJ crying, and wonders how many hours of sleep were lost over him.

He tightens his arms around his friend, and they don't move for a long time.

~

 

Felix avoids people's glances at his haggard appearance all the way to the train station.

Emma doesn't stop talking the whole way home, and he's grateful for the distraction.

The scenery blurs together outside the train window, and it's not because he's crying. No, definitely not.

When he finally fishes the spare key out from underneath the bush, he stops and stares at his apartment.

It's the same as it always has been, albeit worse for wear.

He steps inside, and the halls are empty.

Marzia doesn't call him from the living room, and there are no sounds except his own breathing.

It's empty - more empty than it's ever felt.

Someone's taken the pugs - he can't remember who was watching them.

Everywhere he looks holds memories of Marzia. He's forgotten Emma's there as he sinks to the floor.

He didn't think he had any tears left, but he's proving himself wrong.

~

Zoe cries the whole way home as she chokes out her story to her parents.

She knows it's the fake one. The one they decided on.

But she knows it's the only one that makes sense.

Her father is gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands and her mother has started crying, too.

Their house is full of pictures of her brother and she wonders if the ache in her chest will ever go away.

~

It's a ten hour flight back home, and Mark sleeps the whole way.

He takes a cab with the money they gave him, and he's standing at the door of his house sooner than he thought he would be.

He knows where the spare key is and he finds it, but the door is thrown open before he can use it.

His girlfriend stands in the doorway, eyes red from crying. She hesitates for only a moment before throwing her arms around him.

He hugs Amy as tight as he can and doesn't plan on ever letting go.

~

Jack's on the news by the time Phil gets home. The police are wrestling him into a car, and the cabin looms in the background.

They play a clip of him telling the police he's guilty.

He's got a maniacal gleam in his eyes and his voice sounds so much like Anti that Phil's brain starts to panic.

But Phil knows him well enough to see the fear hidden behind the creepy smile.

Martyn doesn't understand why his brother starts sobbing apologies to his torturer.

~

Dan and PJ spend the rest of the night pretending that he wasn't kidnapped.

Only when Dan takes off his jumper and the scars on his arms appear does PJ crack.

He starts crying, and Dan doesn't know what to do.

"I thought you were dead."PJ says, and his voice barely comes out.

"I thought I'd lost you too" hangs unspoken in the air.

~

It's cold in the jail cell.

Jack tries not to shiver and flashes the passing officer a grin, keeping up the pretense of serial killer.

He doesn't regret his decision.

But he doesn't want to be here either.

His trial date is set and he lets himself cry long after the night guard's shift begins.

He cries to his friends and tells them everything he should have.

He cries to his parents who think their baby boy is a murderer.

He cries to Signe. He's going to see her soon.

Now he's crying with a smile on his face and he knows he looks insane. That's okay.

It'll only convince them more.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All will be revealed in due time.
> 
> Patience is key, my dear reader.

"Jemma?" 

There's no answer.

Dan Middleton pokes his head out of the kitchen, cradling his right hand close to his chest.

"Um - please don't laugh -" he grimaces as pain lances through his hand. "Love, I think I broke my hand. On the kitchen counter. Did -"

Dan pauses, staring at the scene in front of him. His wife lies unmoving on the couch, clothes stained red from the blood spilling out of the hole in her side.

Dan fights the urge to scream, and rushes to Jemma's side. He doesn't notice the yellow pixels building up from the ground until the man they form wraps his hands around Dan's neck, and the world dissolves into yellow static.

/

He hears the world around him like it's through a fog. 

"Your hand's broken?" It's his voice, but he hasn't opened his mouth. He doesn't even know of he has a mouth to open. 

He sees his living room through someone else's eyes, and he feels his body moving with no effort on his part.

As the pain from the static disappears, the world comes into focus and the sound sharpens. 

His hand throbs, and he looks down to see his body, just as it had been before the static - clothes the same, and his hand, little finger bent at a strange angle from his knuckle. There's a void of nothing around him, and he realizes the world he's looking at is projected into the nothing - like a T.V. screen.

The thing inside his body raises his broken hand up, staring at it.

"So fragile." He shudders as his voice speaks words he never told it to.

"We better get moving, pet," the thing says, and Dan realizes with horror that it's talking to him. "Before you get pegged with murder. The last subject I had -"

It laughs, and it sends chills down Dan's spine. 

"Who are you?" He asks, surprised his voice works.

The thing looks down at his dead wife - she was only 24 - and laughs again. "William, dear. Now, come."

Dan doesn't have a choice, and he watches his body wash the blood off of his hands and disappear in a burst of yellow static. Pain radiates from his hand every time it's moved, and when the static comes, his whole body feels like it's being pulled apart.

He can't cry while trapped in his mind, but he certainly can scream.

~

Mark Fischbach hates reading the news, but today is an exception. 

/21 YEAR OLD CHARGED WITH MASS MURDER - DISAPPEARS BEFORE POLICE ARRIVE/

Mark scrolls down further on his phone to read the article. 

Something about it feels wrong - familiar.

The article spouts nonsense about guns and bullets, but at the bottom, they put some eyewitness accounts.

(He just - appeared, out of nothing, out of the yellow.) 

(There were no guns, don't believe them.)

(He looked like - you know, in the movies, when someone's possessed and fighting it?)

(He argued with himself for a long time, no one could get near him.)

(And he screamed, really loudly, and yellow beam-things shot out from him, they -)

(He killed so many people.)

(He looked shocked, and then he laughed - and he wouldn't stop -)

(His eyes glowed purple and then he disappeared.)

The scene they describe is all too familiar to Mark, and he feels the blood drain from his face. It's been ten years, but he remembers everything vividly.

Mark almost drops his phone in his haste to call Felix.

~

Dan Middleton sits huddled in the dark room, shivering in the cold. 

His jacket's been shredded from trying to escape the first day - the attempt itself was hard enough with his hand, but the punishment after being caught made the broken bone insignificant. He envisions the bent and broken metal rod slamming towards him, and flinches involuntarily.

His hairs falls in his face, and the handcuffs prevent him from pushing it away.

It's been more than a few days, and William hasn't shown up in a long time. 

He'd been pushed roughly back into reality after William left him, a new body building up from the ground.

Purple hair and eyes, and a wicked, wide grin.

The first thing he did was inject Dan with some sort of drug. He didn't know exactly what it did, but he wasn't hungry or thirsty. He guessed that it made sure he didn't need to be taken care of.

Dan's shoved out of his thoughts and into reality as a boy, around twenty, maybe - stumbles into existence in front of him. His eyes glow purple, but it fades and he collapses to the ground.

William's pixelated body builds up, and he's laughing. The boy struggles to sit up, and immediately starts yelling.

"Why?" He shouts, and Dan sees a tear drip onto the floor. The boy finally manages to push himself up, and stares at William with fear and anger in his eyes. "They - they didn't do anything - they were innocent - so many, you killed them all -"

His sentences are garbled and disjointed, but William seems to understand. 

"You were fighting, James," William croons, his voice soft. "You needed to learn a lesson."

The boy - James - crumples, tears falling faster.

"My sister was there," he whispers.

William laughs. "Lesson learned, then?" 

James doesn't respond. 

William turns to the metal table in the corner of the room, and grabs a syringe.

James looks up, fear more prominent than ever. "What's -"

William holds up a finger, silencing him. "Hush, pet. Daniel can tell you later."

James looks over and notices Dan for the first time. His eyes widen, and Dan tries to smile at him. It probably looks more like a grimace.

Taking advantage of the boy's distraction, William sticks the needle into the James's arm.

He yelps, jerking away, but the drug is already in his blood.  
William laughs, and starts to disappear. "Be good, boys!"  
The laugh turns into giggling and the last of the pixels dissolves into the floor.


	17. FINIS

It's a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare.

He repeats it to himself, thinking that maybe it will all be okay if he can just think hard enough.

It's a nightmare. It's a nightmare.

But this is not a nightmare, and he knows it. This is real.

And he's scared.

Felix Kjellberg flinches as he backs into the wall, trapped in the corner. Cowering in his own house.

The silhouette moves towards him, yellow pixels falling off it in a steady stream.

It's a boy, but his eyes glow unnaturally purple, and he laughs with a voice that's too low for his age.

The knife he holds gleams in the moonlight, and it's far too close to his bad memories than he'd like.

Felix finds his voice, hating how he stutters.

"Who are you?"

The boy's eyes flicker.

"You don't recognize me? I thought I made a lasting impression. Maybe the new face confused you." 

The knife is raised.

"William, dear," the boy giggles, and Felix gasps as the knife slashes across his throat. Blood drenches his shirt and carpet.

Marzia stands in front of him, beautiful as ever - her eyes kind and her hand extended. He smiles and takes it, and her eyes deaden, ghastly streaks of red marring her neck. She drags him towards her, and the world fades to black.

On the table, his phone rings silently, Mark's caller I.D. flashing on the screen.

The police arrive and deem it suicide. What else are they supposed to say? 

The mourning lasts a short while, but Felix Kjellberg is quickly forgotten by all but a few.

~

Mark Fischbach never saw it coming. He was distracted, calling Felix over and over, increasingly distraught in his haste to reach the Swede.

But now, as the static figure stands before him, he can't help but wish that he'd paid attention to the flickering lights.

A grey silhouette of a man stutters in and out of being in front of him. It looks like something out of an old black and white T.V. 

He stumbles back until he can't go any further, watching as the figure smiles, eyes dead, and raises a knife. It's caked with blood.

Mark doesn't want to know whose it is.

"Who are you?" He asks, the follow up "and what are you doing here" sticking in his throat.

"Felix didn't recognize me. i wonder - will you?" The figure's voice distorts from its British accent and the image flickers. A man with a smile smeared with blood and bright purple hair looms over him, but the grey static is back before Mark can react. It's all too familiar - a face he sees in his nightmares as it laughs, Daniel and Ryan and Jack all screaming in unison in the background. 

"William," he manages to gasp out. "But how?"

The figure grins, image clearing for a millisecond - a blue haired man screaming and banging on something that wasn't there flashing before Mark's eyes. "Poor Mr. Middleton. Never knew what hit him. Neither did his wife. She was rather lovely."

Mark's blood runs cold. "You won't hurt Amy."

William grins, and there's a sudden pain in Mark's side. He looks down to see the hilt of the knife imbedded in his ribs.

"You won't be around to find out."

Two hours later, Amy Nelson returns from an outing with her friends, still reveling in the joy of showing off her engagement ring, to find her fiancée dead in their living room.

Their dog lies dead on the couch next to a pile of shattered glass that was once a vase.

She screams and screams and doesn't stop until they sedate her at the police station.

~

James shivers and whimpers as the man leaves his mind, yanking away and leaving James with a splitting headache.

Dan huddles in the corner, blue eyes exuding sympathy. 

"I'm so proud of my boys," William croons, kneeling down and cupping James' cheek, in lieu of a loving parent.

James doesn't jerk away, knowing that if he does, the hand will follow him and leave a hand shaped bruise. He can't stop himself from shuddering.

William's eyes glow, and suddenly, the girl's screams as he watched her bleed to death echo in his ears, and the bodies of her parents stare at him through lifeless eyes. William laughs as James yelps, pulling away for good.

"I'll be back soon, loves," he sings, and then he's gone.

Dan immediately lunges from the corner, pulling himself as far towards James as he can without jarring his injured hand. "You alright?"

James shakes his head, burying it in his knees. "Her name was Zoe," he sniffs. "She had a family. A boyfriend who loved her. I saw the pictures."

Dan doesn't say anything. He can't. He wonders who will be next on the list of deaths, and he prays it won't be his turn to kill. 

It's no use, and William laughs as his body dissolves into black and white static. He's trapped in his mind again and watches helplessly as they're transported to a small flat in London.

~

Daniel Howell was really very glad Phil moved in with him. After P.J. moved in with his girlfriend, things got lonely.

And scary. But he would never admit that.

Phil was a good roommate - he had his quirks, but everybody has those. Not everybody has the shared experience of being kidnapped and tortured by demons who were actually ten year old children.

Dan snorts at his own train of thought, and Phil calls from the kitchen.

"What did you say, Bear?"

"Nothing, you spoon, just laughing at myself." Dan smiles and sips his coffee, the remains of their breakfast still lying on the glass table.

A sharp shriek from Phil puts Dan on high alert. He sets the coffee down on the table. He knows it's probably nothing, but -

"What's wrong?" He yells, tentatively.

When there's no answer, the fear freezes his heart.

"Did you whack your head on the cupboard door again? I keep telling you to shut them -" He cuts off as a crash is heard from the kitchen.

"Phil?" He asks, and he hates the way his voice breaks. He wants to get up and help, but whatever's out there could hurt him and he doesn't want to hurt anymore -

Dan screams as a something bursts into being in front of him. It drops something heavy on him, and he screams again, short this time, flailing back and off the couch as he tries to get whatever it is off of him.

His whole world stops when he sees Phil's glassy blue eyes, frozen wide in surprise, stare back at him, blood coating his pale skin and leaking steadily from the knife lodged in his skull. His body lies draped on the couch, arm hanging limply off and dragging on the floor.

He can't move as the grey static yanks the knife out. He can't move as it pulls him up, laughing hysterically.

Phil's dead.

Dead.

Dead.

The knife is so close and he doesn't make a move to pull away, even though it would be so easy.

He screams one more time from the pain of the gash opened up in his stomach. 

Then his whole world fades to black as he's dropped to the ground, and he dies staring into blue orbs that look so wrong when they're not alive. 

They are found the next morning, and it's deemed a murder and a suicide.

They don't realize that's exactly how it happened.

The cupboard doors are closed and the shattered mug is cleaned off the floor.

They remove the bloodstains and burn the couch and then sell the apartment again.

The sound of screaming can be heard sometimes. Those who hear it say it sounds eerie.

Those who see the two dead bodies in their dreams scream even louder than Dan ever did.

~ 

Somewhere, in a prison in London, a man whose hair used to be bright green lies in a cell. He's lain there for ten years, and he'll lay there for the rest of his life. 

His friends are all dead, but they don't tell him that. It wouldn't be any use. 

They don't even know if he can hear them anymore.

His eyes are vacant and his smile crooked. His once loud voice is small and broken.

He's insane, and the guards steer clear of his cell as much as they can. So that's why it takes them a few days to realize he's dead.

They say he went peacefully, that his brain just shut down.

You and I know differently.

We know that William made sure his worst fear came true. We know how much he screamed as his body was taken over. We know the mental torture William inflicted on him until he finally overloaded and died a painful death.

His death is broadcasted on the evening news, but everyone who cares is too dead to hear it.

~

Dan Middleton shrinks into the corner for what seems like the millionth time and James screams as the man appears directly in front of them.

He's smiling and laughing, the blood smearing from his hands to his face as he covers his mouth.

He's still grinning and he yanks Dan out from the chains, and pushes him onto one of the metal tables. He's chained down to it, and he's too scared to struggle.

"It's time I improved this," William murmurs happily. "Be my test subject, Daniel, my sweet? Of course you can!" 

Dan finally works up the courage to yank on the restraints, watching in horror as William haphazardly mixes chemicals at the third table, blood dripping from his hands into the solution, sizzling as it makes contact.

"Test subjects are good. I promised myself I wouldn't get angry and try it on myself after you're both dead - even though it worked out so brilliantly last time." He smiles, turning around and patting Dan's cheek. "If I hadn't done that, we never would've met! I'd be dead."

James speaks, his voice shaking. "What are you going to do to us?"

William turns to look him straight in the eyes.

"I'm going to make you live forever. Fix you. Put you back together once you die."

James doesn't answer, and Dan doesn't think he can either.

He doesn't get a chance, however, because the solution has been transferred to a syringe, and the needle has found a home in his neck.

He screams as it burns through his veins. 

William takes notes.

James cries, and tries to cover his ears. He screams just as loudly when it's his turn.

~ 

Two weeks later, the mangled bodies of Daniel Middleton and James Rallison are buried in the forest near a cabin in the woods.

~

Two weeks later, Thomas Sanders and Lily Singh go missing at the exact same time.

~ 

Their bodies are never found. People keep going missing. Until one day, they don't. 

~

The spirits of all the victims laugh and scream and glitch, and the sole survivor of William’s experiments runs as fast as she can. Stephanie Patrick can hear the crackling flames of the fire she started, and the wooden cabin burns down behind her, taking the souls with it.

~

FINIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. It's been quite the adventure.
> 
> I hope that this has not disappointed you. I hope I have sufficiently stomped on your heart.
> 
> Maybe I've had no effect on you at all.
> 
> Ah, well. I had fun. I hope you did too.


	18. A/N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boo! Guess who’s alive!

Hello all! Surprise update for you.

So, with the release of FNAF 6, I can only thank the lovely MatPat for making me realize what I needed to do with this. I love Game Theory.

 

To be clear, I did take a lot from the FNAF series. For example, William. And Anti, Dark, and himself were in fact soul remnants.

I changed the ending to fit a little more with the game. It’s not a lot, but just enough to make sense.

Okay, that’s truly all I have for this story.

Bye!


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